Impressed
by KBJones
Summary: What if Roxanne, the damsel who's never impressed, actually notices something of Megamind's that DOES impress her? Enough to entirely change how she sees the villain? Increasingly inaccurately named 1-shot. Sexual content clearly marked for the squeamish.
1. Impressed

**Okay, I was thinking about how Roxanne is never really impressed with Megamind's inventions. Or, at least, doesn't show it. Which I can sort of understand. They're evil. What kind of hostage would she be if she admitted to being impressed with evil things? **

**So. Megamind makes genius inventions that are so creative as to often be ridiculous. However, it must be said that they are all brilliant, even when they're flawed. Can she really be that unimpressed by all of it all the time? She gets front-row seats, surely she sees enough to appreciate the advanced technology, design, and workmanship. And the spikes. And yet, she's not impressed. Ever. I don't buy that. Surely she's just hiding it. **

**So, I decided to change that. This is a story about the first time she sees one of his non-evil inventions and is impressed. And what that leads to. Probably would lead to an AU. Set pre-movie. Just a one-shot, though. **

**Oh, thanks to pitbulllady for a post on LJ detailing some things about the hoverbike. I know nothing about motorcycles or classic cars myself. **

"Hello? I'm awake! Take the bag off already!" she calls into the darkness while sitting with her hands tied behind her back.

"She's awake!" exclaims Megamind.

"That's what I said, Captain Obvious," she grumbles.

She hears his familiar footsteps approach, the sound muffled. Not a hard floor, then. Come to think of it, she can feel a breeze blowing across her bare arms. Outside then. This theory is confirmed when the bag is snatched off her head and piercing sunlight momentarily blinds her. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and, when she reopens them, it is to find a blue face inches from her own, studying her.

"Don't stare," she tells him, staring at him right back, "It's rude."

He blinks and backs away, still staring, "I'm the villain. I'm supposed to be rude." He has a smirk on his self-satisfied face. He's really pleased with himself over something. He starts over, getting back to the script, "We meet again, Miss Ritchi."

"Morning, Megamind. You look cheerful. Obviously nobody snuck up on you this morning and knocked you out WITH THE FORGET-ME STICK!"'

"Sorry, Miss Ritchi," came Minion's voice from behind a tarp-covered mound 20 feet to her right, "We were all out of spray."

"I don't even mind the kidnappings that much anymore," she admits, "But I can do without the brain damage."

"Why, Miss Ritchi, I'm the villain. I wouldn't expect you to come willingly because I just asked you nicely" explains Megamind, knowing that she wouldn't.

"Try it sometime and see," she answers, knowing he won't, "So, what evil toy are you playing with today? Robots? Lasers? Spikes? Robots with lasers and spikes?"

"No, Miss Ritchi. That would be far too predictable," he says, pleased that the giant robot with lasers and spikes that he'd been planning to use today hadn't been finished in time and he'd had to fall back on one of his back-up evil plots.

"What is it, then?"

"Patience, Miss Ritchi," he purrs, "You will see soon enough. I wouldn't want you to warn your boyfriend-in-tights about my trap before I've had a chance to spring it." He steps away for a moment to help Minion connect some plugs, remove tarps, and position some unidentifiable equipment. Roxanne can't tell what she's looking at, which isn't that uncommon. Some of his inventions are very obscure and she can't always tell what they do until he actually turns them on. Her eyes wander across the open field where her chair is sitting and she spots another piece of equipment she finds far more interesting.

"What's that?" she asks, running her eyes along the shiny black body of what looks sort of like a motorcycle.

Minion looks up and sees what she's looking at. "Oh, Miss Ritchi, that's just the boss's hoverbike," he answers before connecting another cable to what he's working on.

"It flies?" she asks, imagining what it would be like to ride that through the sky.

"Of course it flies," Megamind answers irritably as he tests a connection that doesn't seem to be working right. Well, what can you expect from salvaged parts? "I wouldn't call it a hover bike if it didn't hover."

"Can I look at it?" she asks.

"You are obviously already looking at it." he answers, searching for a spare cord.

"No, I mean, untie me. I want to look closer." She is straining toward it, working her wrists as if trying to wriggle out of her ropes.

He looks up, his cords forgotten. Why is she so interested in his transportation? He walks over to her, watching her. She isn't even looking at him. Instead, her eyes are darting around from one part of his hoverbike to another. "Why...?" he asks her, suspiciously.

"It's a motorcycle that flies. I want to see it," she explains, as if this were obvious.

"Is this another escape attempt? Because it won't work, Miss Ritchi."

"Yeah, I know. No one can hear me scream. Just untie me already," she looks up at him, finally, "I promise, I'll be good."

"You want me to untie you so you can look closer at my hoverbike?" he asks.

"For a genius, you're awfully slow today," she observes, "Come on. If I try to make a run for it I'm sure you'll send your brainbots after me," she makes one more attempt, smiling and looking up through her lashes straight in his eyes, "Please?"

Villain though he is, how can he resist that look? It's nearly as good as the ones Minion can produce. "Well, since you _begged_ me," he relents. He swiftly unties her and she immediately approaches the hoverbike.

She walks around the bike, examining it closely and occasionally ducking down to see better. Megamind is following her warily. She reaches out to run her hands along the chrome handlebars and traces the lightning bolts on the sides. Clearly she likes it. "Harley Davidson frame," she observes, "Is that a Studebaker bullet nose?"

"Yes," he grins watching her practically stroking _his_ bike.

"I bet she's fast," she breathes.

"You like it, Miss Ritchi?" he asks, confident that she does.

"She's beautiful," she finally looks back at him, teasing. "And it's not even evil. I didn't think you had it in you, Spaceman."

"It can be used for evil," he objects, defending his evilness.

She shakes her head sadly, "You can make stuff like this, and you waste your time making toys for Metro Man to smash," She runs a hand over the leather seat longingly and sighs. Then she turns back and begins to walk toward her chair. After all, she'd promised to be good.

Before she can go very far, he asks her, "Would you...like to take a ride?" She stops in her tracks and turns to him. There's a calculating look in his face. Off to one side, Minion gasps.

"Don't you have an evil plan to implement?" she asks.

He shrugs, as if it didn't matter to him, "If you're not interested, I _can_ just tie you up again, Miss Ritchi."

She thinks about it, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. She knows this is probably a bad idea. But that bike is _so_ pretty. When will she ever get the chance to ride it again? It'll probably be smashed soon, the way his things get destroyed. It would really be a shame to lose this opportunity. She looks at him and then back at the bike. Back and forth. Then she decides. A wicked grin lights her face as she saunters back to the villain's bike.

Megamind removes his cape and tosses it to the ground. Otherwise it will flap in her face while they ride. He mounts the bike and kick-starts it, twisting the throttle to race the engine. It's a satisfying, deep growling sound that Roxanne likes. It rises a few inches in the air and bobs in place as he shifts his position, sliding forward to make sure there's room for her behind him. He holds out his hand to help her on-board, wondering if she'll back out. She accepts his hand and climbs up with the confidence of a woman who's been on the back of a bike before. She hesitates only a second before wrapping her arms around him. She doesn't want to risk falling off. He sucks in his breath at the contact, enjoying the feel of her pressed against his back. With one last glance at Minion, watching from the ground, he guns it and streaks into the air, Roxanne clinging to him for dear life. They race all through the city and out into the surrounding country. Sometimes flying high in the air and sometimes along the ground with traffic. They swoop down to startle birds and swing around buildings at break-neck speeds, laughing into the wind.

An hour or two later, Megamind pulls his hoverbike up to Roxanne's balcony to drop her off. As he helps her down, she says, "Thanks, Megamind. That's the most fun I've had in a long time."

"Better than flying with Metro Mahn?" he asks. He says it as if he's teasing, but he really hopes it's true. He doesn't know why he cares, but hearing Roxanne admit he's better than his rival at something feels like it would be a victory. Something he's never really experienced before.

"Much better," she agrees, giving him his win. Then she makes that win even more impressive by impulsively giving him a peck on the cheek. His face blushes violet. She giggles. Some villain. "If you want to swing by and take me for a ride again sometime, I wouldn't object."

"You wouldn't? But... I'm the bad guy."

She shrugs, as if she doesn't care. "Well, if you don't want to..."

"No. I... I'd enjoy that, Miss Ritchi," he stutters, trying to regain his composure. This is going so much better than he'd dreamed of.

"Call me Roxanne, Megamind."

His heart skips a beat. "R-Roxannne," he breathes.

"Yes?" she looks at him expectantly.

He blinks and pulls himself together. Once composed, he asks suavely, "Are you doing anything Saturday night?"

"Not much," she answers, succeeding in not laughing at his act.

"I could pick you up at seven," he suggests.

"Sounds good. Try to stay out of prison, bad guy," she winks at him before turning and entering her apartment, closing the balcony doors behind her.

Outside, Megamind guns the engine and roars off into the sky, his heart dancing. Could this day get any better? Oh, yes, to brag. He slows his bike and speaks into his wrist, "Minion. Code: She kissed me."

"What?"

**So, yeah. Roxy's got a weakness for motorcycles. **

**Sorry, it's a little rushed. Just a quick little idea that came to me. **

**Review! **


	2. She Kissed Me!

"You heard me. She kissed me! Only briefly and on the cheek, but still. She kissed me." A grin splits his face from ear to ear as he sits on his hoverbike in midair in the sky above Metro City and talks to Minion through the communicator on his watch. "I want her to do it again. Only, on my lips. Do you think she'd do it again?"

"I don't know, sir. You haven't told me why she did it the first time," answers the fish, sounding worried.

"I'm not sure either." Megamind pauses to consider what happened. "I was dropping her off at her door and she thanked me for the ride, said she had fun, and kissed me."

"Sir, isn't that what women traditionally do at the end of a date?" Minion asks.

That idea sends a thrill through Megamind's body. Had she been thinking of him like _that_, like a man, a potential _suitor_, while she held onto him on the back of his bike? He thinks that he needs to do some research into human courting rituals.

He'd never looked into that aspect of human culture for the sensible reason that he'd never thought he'd have a need to use such information. The only women who'd ever expressed an interest in him were the morbid types who liked danger and wanted to find out what it would be like to bed an extraterrestrial. They'd sent him letters in prison, sometimes with disturbing pictures attached. He'd never replied to any of them. He wasn't interested. If he'd never met Roxanne, he'd probably just assume that he wasn't attracted to humans at all.

Roxanne was the only one who'd ever piqued his interest. With her beautiful blue eyes, soft brown hair that he always wanted to stoke but never had, and her luscious, curvy figure with wide hips that made him want to... Well, not that he'd ever get a chance to do _that_. But he could imagine. And best of all, she had a brain that could, well, not actually keep up with his, but could come close. Closer than anyone else he'd ever met.

Humans always reacted with some combination of fear, hatred, disgust, or morbid curiosity. He'd come to accept it, even to embrace it in his role as the supervillain. But he didn't really like it. No other woman had ever looked at him the way Roxanne did. Like she saw _him_. Not the supervillain, not the space alien, but _him_. Megamind, the person. Maybe even Megamind, the man? The faintest hope took root in his black heart, despite his better judgment. "Do you think she regarded our ride as a kind of date, Minion?"

"I don't know sir," answered Minion cautiously, "Did she say anything else to you?"

"Yes, she wanted me to take her for a ride again on Saturday," he answers, knowing that was a good sign.

"That sounds like a date to me, sir," the fish answers reluctantly, "A second date."

"Minion, you fantastic fish, do you realize what this means?"

"Um... What sir?"

"I am dating Roxanne Ritchi!" he exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

"Yes, sir. It sounds like you are," Minion does not seem nearly so enthusiastic. He knows the bad guy doesn't get the girl. He doesn't think this can end well.

Oblivious to his friend's misgivings, Megamind instructs Minion to pack up the evil equipment and return it to storage. He doesn't want to risk going to prison again until he's explored the possibilities of this new situation with Roxanne. He needs to make some plans.


	3. I'm Dating Megamind!

What was she thinking? Riding around the city with Megamind? Had anyone recognized her? Taken a picture? Oh, that's all she needed. The press to come up with the idea that they were dating! Were they dating? Well, she'd kissed him and scheduled another...outing. Yes, it did probably count as dating! Oh, God! She was dating Megamind!

She throws herself down onto her couch dramatically and rolls to stare up at the ceiling. Well, at least she finally _had_ a date. Other than going to occasional society functions with Wayne for work, she hadn't had an actual date in years. Wayne! Oh! What will he say when he finds out? Wait. Why is it even his business? It's not like he's really her boyfriend. If she wants to date someone, even Megamind, she will. And no holier-than-thou superhero would stop her. Probably.

Oh, this is not going to end well! But, damn if she's not going to do it anyway. She grins, remembering how great it felt on that bike. Flying through the air, the wind in her hair, the bike rumbling under her seat, clinging tight to Megamind's back. God, that felt nice. That suit of his is skin-tight and she got a very good idea, over the course of the hour or so's ride, of exactly what his chest and stomach felt like. He was surprisingly muscular for someone that skinny. He also has a very long neck. She'd never really noticed with his collar covering it. But with it bare, she'd found herself staring. She'd wanted to touch his blue skin. What did it feel like? She'd kissed him on the cheek later, but that had been too brief to tell anything much. Maybe she'd kiss him again. She wondered if he'd be a good kisser. She suspected that, even if he wasn't, he'd be a fast learner.

This was such a bad idea. But oh, she was _so_ tired of being good! And he has such a _nice_ bike!


	4. Metro Man Jilted for Megamind?

Metro Man Jilted for Megamind?

Friday May 8, 2009

Local reporter Roxanne Ritchi, long-time girlfriend of our own heroic Metro Man, was spotted yesterday by several witnesses riding through the city on a flying motorcycle with none other than the notorious criminal, Megamind. Unlike most of the villain's appearances in public, no thefts, property damage, or other nuisance behavior were reported. Witnesses said that the two appeared to be "taking a joy-ride" and were "enjoying themselves." Ritchi would not comment on yesterday's incident and Megamind could not be contacted for comment. Metro Man stated that he was unaware of any relationship between the two. Has Metro Man been jilted in favor of Megamind? Has Roxanne Ritchi switched sides? Or is this yet another of the villain's evil plans?

Cat Jackson

Metro Daily News


	5. Insult and Revaunge

Megamind stares in disgust at Friday's issue of the Metro Daily News that a brainbot had stolen for him. He wasn't upset about the article. Speculation about his crimes and lies about his personal life often appear in the paper. Even reports of him being romantically involved with any number of people, including Roxanne and (more disturbing to him) Metro Man, are fairly commonplace. Without a photograph, few people will believe the report. What disturbs him is the editorial cartoon that ran with the article in lieu of an actual photo. It was clearly a reference to the movie E.T. with a flying bicycle and him sittting in the basket with Roxanne pedaling. "Bastards!" he growls. The picture manages to be offensive to everyone involved, including the hoverbike. "It's as if they don't take me seriously! I'm a supervillain and they dare to run this? Seriously, it's as if they _want_ me to do something evil to them." He pauses, stroking his little goatee as he considers, "What shall I do to them?"

Later that night he sends his brainbots to sneak into the offending cartoonist's home while he sleeps. They steal all the left shoes in the house, unscrew all the lightbulbs, turn off the alarm clock and set all the clocks ahead 45 minutes, steal his wallet, dial a morally questionable 900 number and leave the phone off the hook, and open the door to his refrigerator and leave it open. Then they go outside and paint half his house light blue.

The next morning he sends a larger number of brainbots out into the city to steal and incinerate every copy of the Saturday Edition of the Metro Daily News that they can find.

Minion reflects that, with all his evil plans on hold, sir obviously does not have enough to occupy his time.

**Thanks to Trainee Hero for the E.T. idea. I couldn't resist. **


	6. Picking Her Up at Seven

Megamind flies his hoverbike to Roxanne's apartment building and 'parks' in mid-air next to her balcony. He dismounts gracefully and knocks on her glass door. The curtains are open and he watches her emerge from her bedroom and come toward him down the hallway. His eyes widen and as he sees what she's wearing.

Tight, stonewashed blue jeans hug her hips. A black T-shirt with a white and grey Harley-Davidson logo strains across her chest. Her feet are in black motorcycle boots. As he watches, she swings a black leather jacket onto her back and slides her arms into the sleeves. The boots are scuffed and scratched. the jacket is worn and its fringes somewhat frayed. The Harley logo is faded. This is an outfit that has seen use. Not something she'd bought just for looks.

He grins appreciatively. Who knew Roxanne was a biker chick? That explains her fascination with his bike.

She opens the door and joins him on her balcony. "Blue and black," he observes with approval and a wicked grin, "You look lovely in leather, Roxanne."

"Thanks, Megamind," she self-consciously smoothes the fringe on her jacket, "I haven't worn these in years. I'm glad they still fit."

Megamind himself is wearing his normal suit, but has replaced his customary cape with a more practical leather jacket with spikes on the shoulders. His gloves are short, reaching just past his wrist without any spikes at all. It's not as intimidating, but is more practical for riding with someone sitting behind him. The collar is turned up, as always.

She looks him over briefly and likes what she sees. "You look good too, Megamind. I like the jacket."

"_Good_, Miss Ritchi?" he scoffs, "Please. I _am_ the villain. _Good_ does not describe me." he grins, "I look _fantastic_." He touches his collar to pop it up again, just to make sure it's the way he likes it.

She smirks, regarding him with her head tilted to the side. She shakes her head, a decision made, and closes her door behind her. "This is such a bad idea," she observes, stepping close to him.

"A very bad idea," he agrees, watching her warily, "I'm not sure why you're coming with me at all. -Not that I'm complaining," he hurriedly adds, "I'm just confused. You're not supposed to be with me. Not willingly."

She shrugs, "I know. But I'm tired of doing what I'm supposed to do. I want to go out and have some fun for a change," she looks up at him, "And I want to get to know you better."

"Is this a nosy reporter trick to learn all my secrets for the news?" he asks suspiciously. That explanation makes much more sense to him than her just suddenly having an interest in him personally. It makes his heart ache to think she's just wanting to use him for her career. He steps back from her, suddenly cold.

"No, Megamind," she follows him and takes his gloved hand to keep him from retreating farther. "This is just us. I promise. I'm not going to share your secrets with anyone." she pulls his captured hand behind her and around her waist. She turns toward him, sliding her arms under his and around his sides, resting her hands on his upper back and pulling him close. He's suddenly very aware of just how warm she is against him. She looks up, meeting those gorgeous green eyes, "I just want to spend some time with you."

They lean forward and embrace. He absolutely melts in her arms. He doesn't even care why she's hugging him or what consequences may come of it. All that matters is that, at least for this one short moment, she is his. It's more than he's ever had before. He concentrates on every detail, committing the scene to his prodigious memory because he knows it cannot last.

Eventually she pulls away. He lets her, but is disappointed. "Well, we shouldn't stand around here all day," she tells him, "You brought your bike. Let's go somewhere."

Obediently, he leads her to the railing. He climbs up first and then helps her on behind him. She wraps her arms around him again and they race into the sky and away from the city.


	7. Worried Witness

A mile away, a figure clad in white, grey, and gold floats on an updraft and watches the city that is his to protect. At any one moment, many things are occurring in a city this size. Most are not dangerous or criminal and at this moment no one needs saving. The man is troubled, however, as he watches the scene near the top of a high-rise apartment building. On a balcony, a woman embraces a man in black before riding away with him on his flying motorcycle. He knows the people and was unaware that there had been any relationship between the two besides that of villain and victim. But to the hero's surprise, she had gone to the man willingly and even pulled him to her. He did not think she was a victim tonight, and so he had not stepped in. He's worried, however, because the woman was his friend and the man a criminal. He did not think this would end well.


	8. Picnic on the Beach

The lake sparkles in the late day sun. The air is pleasantly warm, but the breeze from the lake and the wind from the hoverbike's speed make Megamind and Roxanne glad for the warmth of their jackets. They began their flight high in the air over Metro City so few people would notice them and those that did wouldn't recognize Roxanne. They'd been careless on their previous ride. Megamind was more careful this time.

They follow the shoreline and he brings them gradually lower as the city falls from view behind them. Eventually, he swings low over a line of rocky beach isolated by a tall cliff at its back and a steep line of rocks and trees jutting out into the water. It forms a peaceful and pretty little cove. This is where Megamind lands his hoverbike.

"What a beautiful place!" exclaims Roxanne as she slides off the bike.

Megamind smiles, pleased that she likes it. He hadn't known where to take her. His research on human courting rituals had suggested that taking her somewhere for dinner would be the best bet for an appropriate activity on a second date. But his unique looks and fugitive status would make it impossible to do that in any public setting without resorting to the use of his disguise generator watch, which Roxanne doesn't know about. One hoverbike ride around the city wasn't enough to make him trust her with that secret. He did plan to let her "get to know him better", but there were limits.

His options were limited. Taking her back to the Evil Lair was straight out. The location of his home was a closely guarded secret he couldn't trust her with. If he took her there, he'd feel compelled to blindfold her or knock her out, and even _he_ knew that would not be a good way to begin the evening. They could have remained at her apartment, but that would defeat the whole purpose of going _out_ somewhere. When he'd thought of this beach, he was sure it would be the perfect solution. It was private, pleasant, and somewhere he felt comfortable.

"Minion and I found it when I was 14," he explains as he shuts down the bike, makes sure it is securely upright on the uneven ground high on the beach, and dismounts, "We'd escaped from prison and needed somewhere to stay out of sight for awhile. The water's reasonably clean and there's a dry cave up there in the cliff. We stayed here for a month until I got tired of eating nothing but fish and got caught stealing food from a grocery store late at night." He smiles, remembering with fondness a more innocent time when he was merely a petty thief with plans, not a full-fledged supervillain. "We still come here sometimes when we get tired of the city or Minion wants to really stretch his fins. We've never seen anybody out here. It's almost impossible to get to except by swimming or flying and there are no homes nearby."

"So, you're saying no one can hear me scream," teases Roxanne.

He grins and walks up close to her, whispering low in her ear, "You really should have thought of that before you got on my bike, Roxanne." His warm breath tickled. "There's no telling what I'll do with you now that I have you alone."

"I'm not afraid of you, Megamind," she answers, pulling her head back far enough to look him steadily in the eye.

He meets her gaze with a puzzled expression, "You're probably the only one in the city who isn't. Why is that?"

She shrugs, "If you wanted to hurt me, you'd have done it a long time ago," she answers, "Besides," she smirks knowingly, "I think you like me."

"I-" he begins to deny it out of reflex, but stops himself, "Maybe I do," he concedes, his heart racing as he voices his confession. He boldly brings his gloved hand up to stroke her cheek, still staring into her blue eyes. "And do you like me, Roxanne?"

"I don't know," she says honestly, her eyes closing as she leans her head into his touch, "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

He swallows and pulls away from her, turning to the lake. He picks up a flat stone and skips it across the surface with practiced skill. It bounces four times before it sinks into the water. He smiles at the small achievement. Without looking at her, he observes, "You certainly like my bike, anyway. Why is that? I wouldn't have pegged you as a biker chick."

"Then you didn't do your research," she answers, "I grew up around bikes. My dad was an engineer for Harley-Davidson until I was six. Even after that he always had a bike to ride and usually a half-restored one that he was working on. I used to sit with him in the garage and help him. Hand him tools, hold things while he attached them. Nothing he couldn't do without me, but it made me feel useful. I knew how to change the oil and do a tune-up by the time I was fourteen," she smiles, remembering, "Then in college I dated several bikers. I almost married one, even. But he didn't want to move to Metro City when I got the job at the TV station." Her smile was a little sad, tinged with regret.

"Then he obviously wasn't very bright," Megamind observes. What sort of idiot would turn down the opportunity to marry Roxanne? If he ever had that chance...which he never would, of course. But still, the man must have been a moron.

She smiles and skips her own rock across the lake, disappointed to only get one skip out of it. "Dad would have loved to see your bike. The lightning bolt design reminded me of one he made when I was...oh...twelve I think. He asked me if I wanted flames, stars, or lightning bolts. I thought flames were too common and stars too girly. So, I chose lightning. Blue and black, like yours. He even let me help paint it. But only a little because he was making it to sell and he couldn't risk me messing it up. Still, that one always felt special to me. Like it was mine."

"You said he _would have_ loved to see it?" he says quietly.

She nods and sighs, "He died when I was still in college. My senior year. Right after Spring Break. A truck hit him when he was out riding. The guy ran a red light and slammed right into him at 45 miles an hour. Even with a helmet, Dad didn't stand a chance. He was thrown and his neck snapped on impact," she throws another rock. Too hard this time. It sinks right into the water.

"I'm sorry," says Megamind, laying a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. He doesn't know how to comfort someone, not having ever been comforted himself. But he makes the attempt.

She shrugs, knocking his hand away, and she paces away from him, "It's not your fault," she takes a deep breath and turns back, "I still miss him, but it's not as bad as it used to be. It doesn't hurt as much anymore. I keep a picture of him with me," she reaches into her jacket pocket and removes her wallet. She opens it and pulls out a plastic sleeve. There's a picture of a man in his fifties. Grey hair and dark sun-tanned skin. He's sitting on a dark blue bike with light blue flames curling around the gas tank. He's wearing a black leather jacket and has a huge smile on his face. "That's the bike he was riding when he died. That was taken the day he finished it."

She holds it out and Megamind studies it for a moment. "You have his eyes," he tells her.

Her mouth stretches in a thin-lipped smile. She returns the photo to her wallet and pockets it again. "I try to keep photos of him around me. I'm so afraid sometimes that I'll forget what he looked like. I barely remember his voice anymore. All the memories are fuzzy. I hate forgetting. It's like losing him little by little."

"I never forget anything," Megamind tells her sadly.

"Nothing?"

He shakes his head. "I can remember what I had for breakfast on this date when I was ten years old."

"Really?"

"Oatmeal," he answers seriously, "And a banana."

"No wonder your head's so big, if it has to store all that useless trivia," she grins, "Or do you just have total recall of all things breakfast-related?" she teases.

He laughs, "Yes, my species evolved a large brain just to record the history of breakfasts throughout our lives," he says sarcastically, but smiling, "I'm actually quite remarkable, being the first and last person in the universe ever to have experienced eating both oatmeal and alcleas in my lifetime."

"Al-kle-as?"

He shakes his head and defines the foreign word, "A mash I was fed for breakfast twice before I was sent here. It's remarkably similar to oatmeal, actually. Except it's purple. I spit out half of it and spread rather a lot on my head, I remember," he shrugs, deadpanning it, but with a hint of humor in his eyes, "I was very young."

Roxanne giggles, "You're funny, Megamind. I didn't know you were funny."

"Anything to make you laugh like that, Roxanne. I like hearing you laugh," he says, smiling wistfully.

He can't read the expression on her face just now. She'd stopped laughing. There's a small smile on her lips and she looks thoughtful, her eyes slightly narrowed, but sparkling. He wishes he knew what was going on in her head. "What are you thinking?" he asks.

She shakes her head, she isn't ready to voice her thoughts yet. Instead she asks him, "Did you bring dinner or were you planning to take me fishing?"

"No, I brought food with me. It can take all afternoon to catch a fish dinner here. If you like to fish, I could bring you back sometime when we have more time," he offers, hoping this impossible dating would last that long. "Maybe, later in the year when it's warmer, we could bring Minion and all go swimming." he ran his eyes down her body speculatively before meeting her eyes with a cocky smirk, "I'd like to see you in a swim suit."

"That would be fun," she answers, almost as if she expects them to be dating that long, "I haven't gone swimming in a long time."

He pulls a black zip-close pouch from his jacket pocket and unseals it. Then he dumps the contents out on the beach. Several faintly glowing blue cubes tumble out along with a white handkerchief with his logo embroidered in one corner. He takes the square of cloth to the lake and soaks it in the water, leaving it dripping. He comes back and selects one of the cubes, which has a string tied around it. He holds the dripping cloth over the cube and it transforms into a folded blanket. He kicks some rocks around to clear a relatively flat area of pea-gravel beach. Then he spreads the blanket and gestures to Roxanne to sit. He kneels on the blanket and places the remaining squares in the center. He drips water on each in turn. Then he wrings the remaining water out of the damp cloth and spreads it on a large rock nearby to dry. He removes his gloves and sticks them in his pockets.

Roxanne examines the results of the rehydration and begins to giggle uncontrollably.

"What?" he asks.

She picks up one of two plastic bottles filled with water, "You dehydrated water." she giggled, "and rehydrated it with more water. That boggles my mind."

"Well, the process is not actually dehydration. But it's the closest term I could come up with that started with 'de'," he explains. He draws his de-gun and shows her the settings on the side to illustrate his point, "I have a theme going. Also, if I called it an atomic-level matter compression and suspension beam, it wouldn't fit on the barrel," he re-holsters the gun, "Since water's the catalyst to restore the original form, calling it dehydration seemed like a concept most humans could grasp," he shrugged.

He sits and arranges the items for their meal. The cardboard pizza box had decompressed balanced on its edge and had immediately toppled to land upside down. He turned it the right way around and opened it. Steam rises from the still-hot pizza, luckily with only a little cheese sticking to the lid.

"And you care what humans think of the names of your technology because..?"

"If they can't understand it on some level, they won't be suitably impressed," he answers. He draws a knife from his belt and re-slices the pizza where the cheese had fused it together again. Then he wiped the blade clean on the blanket and re-sheathed it. "It's all about presentation," he raised an eyebrow, "Surely you've picked up on that by now."

"It's all an act, isn't it?" she asks suspiciously, selecting a slice and beginning to eat, "This whole supervillain/superhero game you've been playing for years."

"No," he answers slowly, as he eats his own piece, "It's...partially an act. The theatrics of it. The showmanship. That's an act. We could play the game without it, I suppose. But then I think we'd be too tempted to fight dirty and break the rules. Then people would get hurt. It _is_ a sort of game, but the stakes are real. I want the city and he's standing in my way."

"What am I then? A pawn?" she asks.

"More like the white queen. Or you were. Are you dating both of us at the same time now? Or have you dumped him?" Either way he likes the idea. Surely the hero doesn't know yet, since Megamind hasn't been beaten to a pulp and hauled off the jail. He anticipates the pain the news will cause the invulnerable man with evil delight. The pain likely to come to Megamind in retaliation did not concern him. It was just part of the game. Part of the sacrifice required to score the point.

She looks at him, an impish smile on her lips, "Metro Man and I were never a couple."

This news rocks the villain to his core and he can't hide the shock on his face. It's one of the fundamental assumptions of the game, of his life. How could it be wrong? "But I thought..."

"I know, everyone did. And he _is_ a good friend of mine. But... He's just not my type."

"Not your type? How's that possible? He's every woman's type. Strong, brave, handsome. Great hair. Everyone in the city loves him!"

"Not me," she answers, "He's too..." she shudders, "perfect. It's unnerving."

A hopeful suspicion begins to grow in his evil mind and he asks her, "What _is_ your type, Roxanne?"

She grins, knowing she's about to tell him exactly what he's wanted to hear for years, "I want an intelligent man, in black leather, with a nice bike."

"Really?" he breathes. His mind is suddenly consumed by the implications of these two revelations. Inside that over-sized brain plans are scrapped, others revised, and brand-new ones tentatively form. His future suddenly seems full of new possibilities. "Clearly you are no longer of any use to me as superhero bait," he observes.

"Probably not. If he doesn't know already, he'll notice soon. You saw we were in the paper yesterday." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," he agrees with a smirk, "I saw."

"Know anything about Allen Brewster's house being vandalized last night?"

"Perhaps," he grins.

"That wasn't very mature," she tells him.

"I disagree. It was a calculated response to a deliberate insult. I _am_ a supervillain. If I allowed such disrespect to stand unchallenged in _my_ city who would take me seriously? They're lucky. A less tolerant supervillain would have just blown up the newspaper office and the cartoonist's house. It certainly would have taken less effort. I thought my response was appropriately restrained."

Viewed from that perspective, she reluctantly admits to herself that he has a point. She chuckles, but doesn't admit he's right.

Since they seem to be finished with the meal, Megamind dehydrates the trash (or rather, compresses and suspends the trash at the atomic level) into a single blue cube. He slides the cube into to the water-proof black pouch and slides it into his pocket. This is his private retreat. He's not about to leave litter lying around it.

Just in time too. No sooner has he tucked it safely away than thunder rumbles across the sky and raindrops began to spot the rocks around them. The isolated location of the cove protects them from on-lookers, but the cliffs also block their view of half the sky. The storm had snuck up on them and there isn't time to outrun it on the hoverbike.

"We better get inside," he tells her. They stand. He tosses the picnic blanket over his shoulder and stuffs his still-damp handkerchief into a pocket (not the same one as the pouch with the blue cube). Then he takes her hand and leads her up the cliff.

**I first saw an explanation of how the dehydration gun isn't really a dehydration gun in bad to be good. In that, Roxanne is astonished that he manages to rehydrate water. So, um, yeah, I stole that. The bit about why he still called it dehydration, though, is mine. **


	9. Cave Painting and Palm Reading

Megamind climbs up the rocks with the agility of a mountain goat. Roxanne isn't so graceful and clings to his hand as she scrambles up behind him. Eventually they reach a point, about twenty feet up, where an opening in the rock face can be seen. After pausing to make sure Roxanne has a secure perch, he crawls into the tunnel and quickly disappears from sight. Roxanne, becoming increasingly damp from the rain, takes a deep breath and follows him in.

Once inside, Roxanne notices a blue glow from in front of her and after about six feet or so, the tunnel opens into a dimly lit natural chamber about the size of a small bedroom. The glow emanates from Megamind's unholstered de-gun. As she watches, he picks up a feebly glowing blue cube in his palm and spits on it. The water in his saliva transforms it into a glass ball approximately the size of his fist fitted into a snug wire cage with a handle looped over the top. He shakes the globe and it begins to glow. Then he holds it up to hang it from a hook set into the low ceiling of the cave. He holsters the gun, no longer needing it's glow. The light from the sphere slowly increases until it is roughly the equivalent of a 60-watt incandescent bulb.

Roxanne blinks in surprise as she looks around her. The room is mostly bare, it's only contents consisting of several stacks of blue cubes positioned around the walls. But one wall has a recessed area with a landscape scene painted on the rock. It managed to give the impression that the cave has a window. But the view is nothing like the lakeshore outside. In fact, it is like no scene that had ever been seen on the planet Earth.

There is a huge garden with Turquoise grass carpeting the ground and narrow trees with purple leaves reaching into the sky. Lavender bushes cluster here and there and cobalt and green flowers bloom in the shade. Low trees in the distance, also with purple leaves, seem heavy with pale green fruit. Past the fruit trees, a tall, white wall divides the garden from the countryside beyond. The sky above is the blue of Earth with wispy white clouds, but the sun seems too large for its position in the sky.

More astonishing than the scenery, however, are the blue-skinned figures depicted in the scene. A woman and a half-grown girl gather fruit in baskets at their feet. The woman wears a skin-tight white bodysuit with a high collar around her neck. The girl wears similar clothing, but with a skirt that reaches to her knees. Her legs and feet were bare. Standing attentively among the trees in the foreground are three men in bodysuits similar to the woman's but silver and with calf-length capes hanging from their shoulders.

Roxanne feels like she's intruding on something private and glances at Megamind. He's watching her, waiting for her reaction.

"You're an artist, Megamind," Roxanne tells him, "That's beautiful. Is that what it really looked like?" she asked, indicating the alien landscape.

"Yes," he answers, slightly sad, "I told you, I never forget anything."

"Who are the people?"

"The woman's my mother and the girl is my sister."

"Is one of the men your father?"

"No, they're just guards. My father had other business that day, so he wasn't out with us." He hesitates before continuing, "About an hour after this, the sun turned black."

"Oh, God," Roxanne says, "Did they know it was coming?"

"I don't think so, but it's not the sort of thing one discusses with a newborn. I've never even figured out _how_ it happened. I don't know of any stellar phenomenon that can cause a yellow dwarf star to collapse into a black hole in a matter of minutes," he sighs.

She reaches over and takes his bare hand in hers. This startles him and he looks at her, wondering why she's touching him. He studies her face. Is that pity?

"I don't need your pity, Roxanne. It was a long time ago." he disengages his hand from hers and walks back to the tunnel, finding an angle where he can glimpse the rain outside. Water is pouring down like a waterfall. Lightning intermittently brightens the dark sky, followed by thunder. He watches for 2 minutes and 36 seconds, observing a break of between 5.3 and 9.8 seconds between each flash of lightning and its accompanying rumble of thunder. The lightning is between 1.105 and 2.042 miles away. Nearly right over them. They're stuck here for awhile. He wonders if it will be for an hour or all night. He's not sure which he'd prefer.

He crosses the room to a neatly stacked collection of cubes. He regards them for a moment before plucking one out and setting it on the floor in the middle of the room. He motions Roxanne back before he spits on the cube and jumps back himself. The compressed matter transforms into a black leather couch, laying on its back. Megamind tips it back onto its legs and shoves it against the wall opposite the painting.

"No sense standing around an empty room." he explains, gesturing for Roxanne to take a seat.

"You brought this here when you were 14?" She asks as she sits.

"Yes. I broke into a department store, dehydrated and pocketed what I wanted and was gone before the police showed up. I'm afraid I went a little overboard. I actually have more furniture here than can even fit in the space. It's a good thing it's a dry cave or everything would decompress and get crushed."

"You had that gun way back then?" she asks.

"A different version, but yes. I invented it when I was six."

She gapes at him, "When _I_ was six I was...I don't know...Learning the alphabet and singing _The Itsy Bitsy Spider_ or something. And you were already inventing things like that? God, you're a-"

"Genius?" he smirks, sitting next to her and leaning in, "I'm the smartest man on the planet, Roxanne." she scoffs at the claim. "That's not bragging," he continues, "It's a simple, demonstrable fact. My IQ is off the chart. My inventions are a century ahead of current technology. My understanding of advanced chemistry, physics, and genetics puts current human science to shame."

"If you're so smart," She taps the middle of his forehead to emphasize her point, making him blink. "Why do you _waste_ it fighting Wayne?" She leans back on the couch, facing him with her arms crossed. "Do you actually_ like_ getting your butt kicked and landing in prison? You could be respected for your mind and rich from your inventions. But you'd rather play supervillain? Why?"

"It's my destiny."

"How do you figure that?"

"When I left, my father told me I was destined for-something. I didn't hear what. But I knew I had a destiny. When I arrived, it became obvious what it was. Two orphan boys from alien worlds? One lands in the lap of luxury, loved by everyone, and trained to be a hero from a young age? The other lands in prison, hated by everyone, and raised to be a criminal? _He_ knocked me off-course, Roxanne. _I_ was supposed to have the life of a prince, not _him_. It's clear what my role was meant to be." He points at his painting. "Those are _palace_ gardens. My father was the Overlord. I was born to rule, Roxanne. If not my people, then yours. Metro Mahn is the only one that stands in my way. Defeating him is all it will take to conquer Metrocity and become the Overlord as I was meant to be."

"Why would you want to?" she asks.

"Pardon?" He'd expected her to argue against the existence of fate and destiny. Or to insist that he'd misinterpreted the signs. This line of argument was one he wasn't prepared for.

"Why would you _want_ to rule Metro City?" she repeats, then clarifies, "It's just work, work, work all day. And for what? To be able to boss around people who would gladly stab you in the back if you let down your guard? You'd be dealing with stupid people, bureaucracy, and politics all day. And you'd be stuck having to constantly _defend_ your position from rebels, other supervillains, new superheros, and the army. It would only be a matter of time before someone killed you. Then what? You and everything you remember about your people would be forgotten. Do you think that's why they sent you here?"

"I-" How does Roxanne _do_ that? He has well-laid out arguments and answers to everything and she always manages to slip through and find something he wasn't prepared for. But he can't let her win, "Then why was I sent here? What's my destiny?"

"Well, let's find out," she leans forward and takes his hands in hers and rests them on her thigh, palm up, so she can study the creases on them, "Some people say that you can read someone's fate from their palms. Do you know what your palms say about you?"

"No, I haven't studied the ridiculous human superstition of palm-reading," he answers irritably, but doesn't pull his hands back. He doesn't object to leaving them right where they are.

"Says the man who still believes in destiny," she chuckles, before studying his hands, "Your head line starts here under your index finger. That's hardly surprising with your mind. It means you're very intelligent." He scoffs but she continues, "It slopes and curves. That means you're also creative and able to play with new ideas. Your lifeline is a wide curve. You have a lot of vitality and energy. So far, that sounds like you. Hmmm. Your heartline ends under your middle finger. You have a deep need for love." She runs her nail over a small line under the base of the little finger and grins, "You have a marriage line, Megamind. Just one, it's long, and it doesn't fork. A long, happy marriage. And two child lines." She looks up at him grinning wickedly, "If we're believing in fate, then I think I see why you were sent here. Are you, by any chance, genetically compatible with humans?"

He swallows, "How did you know that?"

"I guessed," she answers, "If you're going to father children, you'd pretty much have to be compatible with us, wouldn't you? You might be interested to know that Wayne has a marriage line, but no child lines. Which makes sense for a man with triple-helix DNA stuck on a planet where the natives have a double-helix. He'll be the last of his line. But not you," she teases, "If we were to believe in any of it, of course. It is, after all, just a silly human superstition."

"And what does your palm say, Roxanne?" he asks.

Her smile drops from her face and her eyes widen. She scoots away from him slightly, "No, we're talking about your fate, here, Megamind. Not mine." She doesn't want him to read her palm. She already knows what it says.

Now he's the one smiling wickedly, "What are you afraid I'm going to see?" he captures her hands and pulls them open so he can see the lines on her palms. She reluctantly allows him to trace his fingers along the lines, looking at the ones she'd pointed out on his hand. He looks at his own palm and then back at hers. He raises his eyebrow and meets her eyes. "Your marriage line and child lines are identical to mine. And your heartline is very similar. What does that mean?"

"It means it's a silly superstition that doesn't mean anything." she says, pulling her hands out of his grasp.

"I don't believe you," he says, laughing at her discomfort, "So, we'll both get married and have two kids, hmmm..?"

"Yes, but it doesn't mean to each other."

"_I_ wasn't suggesting that it did, Roxanne," he traces his fingers along her jawline, admiring the blush that floods her cheeks, "But that is an interesting possibility, don't you think?" He turns her face towards his and kisses her gently on the lips. "Aren't I just what you wanted? An intelligent man in black leather with a nice bike?"

"But you're the villain."

"And yet, you're here," he kisses her again, "Who am I to argue with fate?"

She finds herself kissing him back, despite herself. He's definitely a fast learner. His hand moves to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair and holding her there as his lips explore hers. Her lips part and he licks them, surprised to meet her own tongue in the process. They slowly taste each other's mouth. Then he begins to explore her neck and to nibble her ear lobe. This makes her moan deliciously and so he does it again. He licks, kisses, and nibbles all around her neck until her fingers find the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and suddenly he's the one moaning. She's found his weakness and presses her advantage. She kisses and nibbles her way around his neck, especially the back, which he helpfully bares, encouraging her exploration. While their lips are busy, their hands are exploring as well, mostly stroking each other's backs, occasionally venturing lower around the other's butt.

Without quite knowing how, Roxanne finds herself on her back with Megamind on top of her, his hands just beginning to sneak under the edge of her shirt. She comes to her senses and pushes him away, panting. "Stop," she tells him, and he obeys, placing on last, lingering kiss on her neck before climbing off of her. A tiny, naughty part of her wishes he hadn't listened and had kept going. She presses that part of her down and concentrates on calming her breathing. She looks at Megamind and is pleased to see him in a similar state, his green eyes still filled with lust. One encouraging word from her and he'd be on her again, she knew. Oh, god, what was she doing?

He grins, teasingly, "Miss Ritchi, I do believe you like me."

She groans in frustration and pushes him over onto his side in retaliation. It's an effort to resist following him over and ending up on top of him this time. She runs her fingers through her hair and stands up, pacing back to the cave entrance.

"The rain's stopped," she observes, "You should probably take me back." _Before we start working on those child lines_, she thinks to herself.

Half an hour later, Roxanne is back on her balcony, her knees shaky as she watches Megamind fly off on his bike. _Damn, he's a good kisser_, she thinks, before going inside for the night.

In the distance, the city's protector watches his city and worries about his friend.

**Okay, people, I don't know anything about palm reading besides what I read online in order to write this. So, if I got it wrong, let's all suspend disbelief and pretend that's how palm reading works in the Megamind universe, okay? **

**And Please don't check my math. Just assume it's right. Thanks. :) **

**Review Please. It's what keeps me writing. **


	10. I want her, Minion

Minion walks across the lair toward where Megamind is sitting in his planning area. He seems lost in thought, staring at his hand and running a nail along a fold on the edge of his palm.

"Sir?" Minion asks, wondering why his master is worrying at his hand, "Did you get a splinter? Should I get you the tweezers?"

"No, Minion," he answers, "I'm fine."

"Is there something bothering you, sir?"

He's silent for a long moment and Minion thinks he's not going to answer. Eventually he does. "Do you think I could ever have a family, Minion?" His voice is thoughtful, even wistful.

"I don't know, sir," the fish answers cautiously, "but... you know how humans see you. I... I would love to see you happy, but... I wouldn't get my hopes up, if I were you. I don't want to see you hurt."

"Roxanne doesn't see me the same way the others do," he replies, "She's not frightened of me or disgusted. I think she likes me," a goofy grin slides onto his face and he sighs happily.

"Sir, what happened on your date?" the fish asks suspiciously.

He continues staring at his hand, smiling, "She read my palm. Some humans believe that a person's destiny is written in the lines of their palm." Minion looked at his master skeptically, but doesn't interrupt. "This small line here is a marriage line and I have two child lines as well. She says it means I will have a wife and children one day. She has exactly the same lines on her own hand. Do you think it's possible I might marry her? Perhaps... one day... breed with her?"

The fish's eyes are as wide as saucers now. So, _this_ is what his master had been contemplating all morning. "Sir, I don't know. But... you're the bad guy. You don't get the girl."

He closes his eyes and drops his head back to onto his chair, a small frown on his face. "There must be a way," he argues, "I want her, Minion. It's not enough just to steal her for a few minutes tied to a chair. I want her to belong to me. I want her to love me."

"She doesn't belong to you sir. She's Metro Man's."

"She isn't," he corrects his friend, "She was never Metro Man's. She doesn't love him," he smiles again, remembering, "I kissed her. We kissed each other. A lot. She...bit me on the neck, licked me. It was... exquisite." He shudders slightly at the memory. "I didn't want to stop." He seems halfway lost in the blissful thought.

Minion is suddenly very worried. He knows how sensitive the back of the neck is for Megamind's people once they become adults. It's a major erogenous zone. And she was _licking_ it? That was dangerous. Could sir have...? He gasps and brings his hands to the front of his bowl, over his mouth, "Sir, you didn't..."

"No, we didn't. But... I want to... I want to mate with her, Minion. I can't stop thinking about it. I want her to be with me. Always."

"Sir, you can't. It would ruin her reputation, her career. She's a celebrity. If she was with you, the city would turn on her," the fish tells him.

"Arrgh..." he says, rubbing his palms across his face, "I know that. Don't you think I know that?" He pushes himself up from his chair and paces across the room, thinking, "There must be a way. It can't be impossible. What if..." he stops pacing, a hand on his chin. He looks at his fishy friend, "What if I wasn't the bad guy, Minion? What if I gave it up for her?"

"How can you say that? Being evil is your destiny!"

"Maybe it isn't," he answers, "How can I know? Did my parents send me here to rule? Or did they just send me to survive? Am I meant to conquer the city, or merely to continue my line? They never told me, Minion! How can I be sure? The course of my whole life may have been based on an assumption that was false. What am I supposed to do?"

Minion sighs, "What is it you _want_ to do sir?" he asks, defeated.

"I want to win Roxanne and make her happy," he answers without a second thought.

"Then let's figure out how to do that, sir," Minion tells him, "I'm sure you can think of a way." Whatever Megamind decides to do, Minion will help. And so, the two begin to plan.

**How sweet, Minion's going to help his master get laid...**


	11. He'll Ruin You

Roxanne has a hard time falling asleep that night. She keeps replaying the events of her date. The hoverbike ride, everything they talked about, and especially what he felt like when they'd kissed. His lips had been incredibly soft and his little goatee tickled delightfully on her neck. He'd even tasted different than anyone else she'd ever kissed. Like something faintly spicy and exotic. It had been a long time since any man had touched her like that and she wants more than she'd allowed him to give her. She wants to be taken. She wants to surrender her self-control and give him everything. She knows it would have been a bad idea, and really she is glad she didn't, but safely away from him, alone in her own bed, she longs for it desperately. She tosses and turns in frustration and finally falls asleep with a pillow clutched to her belly and delicious fantasies playing through her head.

In her dreams, they roll together in turquoise grass under purple trees. They laugh and tease each other with clever lips and nimble fingers. When she looks down at herself, her skin is blue and it seems the most natural thing in the world. She looks up at him and finds him smiling down at her with sparkling green eyes. He whispers that he loves her and she answers back in kind. As he dips his head to nibble and suck at her neck, she looks past him into the sky and watches with dawning horror as the sun turns black.

She awakes panicked, her heart pounding as she gasps for breath. It takes a long moment before the room makes sense to her, her sleepy brain still half within the fantasy-turned-nightmare of her dream. Once fully awake, she chides herself for her panic. Fearing that returning to sleep would bring a repeat of the same story, possibly without the pleasant beginning, she decides to call it morning and start her day.

She slides her arms into her robe and belts it around her waist. She visits the bathroom and then wanders into the kitchen to make breakfast and brew coffee. She yawns as she opens her door to retrieve her morning paper and carries it in. Once the coffee is poured and the breakfast assembled, she takes everything out to her balcony to enjoy in the bright morning sunlight, as is her habit on weekends when the weather is fair.

She settles herself onto a metal deck chair and reads her paper while sipping her coffee. On the front page of the Metro section is a grainy black and white picture of herself and Megamind on her balcony kissing with their arms wrapped around each other. It's a good shot, despite the graininess caused by the dim lighting. They're both in profile and there's no mistaking who either of them is. Below the photo is an article.

_Forbidden Love?_

_Sunday May 10, 2009_

_For the second time this week, Metro City's resident Super Villain, Megamind, was seen in the company of Roxanne Ritchi, reporter for KMCP Channel 8 and long-time girlfriend of Metro Man. The pair was spotted riding back to Ritchi's apartment on a flying motorcycle. Once they arrived they spent a few minutes on her balcony, apparently kissing goodnight, before parting ways for the evening. Are things heating up between Ritchi and the blue villain? Has Metro Man been jilted? _

_As reported in this newspaper, the pair was first seen Thursday on an apparent joyride through the city on the same flying motorcyle they were using this time. _

_Cartoonist Allen Brewster alleges that his home was vandalized Friday night by Megamind in retaliation for an editorial cartoon that ran with the article reporting that first sighting. No charges have been filed in relation to the incident due to lack of evidence. _

_The police have reiterated their standing advice for citizens not to antagonize Megamind. He is a fugitive and is considered armed and dangerous on the level of a super. If citizens spot him, they're advised to get safely away before reporting his location to the authorities. According to the police department, Ritchi's involvement worries authorities. However, no evidence has yet turned up indicating that Ritchi has been either harboring or aiding and abetting a fugitive. _

_Cat Jackson_

_Metro Daily News_

Roxanne throws the paper down on the table and glares at it, "Gossip Mongers," she growls. Behind her, she hears a male voice chuckle. She turns to find Metro Man floating in mid-air beside her balcony.

"Morning, Wayne," she greets him in a resigned voice.

"Morning, Roxy," he responds. He floats over the railing and steps lightly to her balcony floor, allowing gravity to reassert control over him. She gestures to the other chair and he sits opposite her. He picks up the offending periodical and looks at the picture. He thinks it's a good shot, though it doesn't capture the passion of the kiss which he'd seen when he witnessed it in person. He'd been frankly surprised (and relieved) that Roxy hadn't grabbed Megamind by the collar and dragged him inside with her. It was that kind of a kiss.

"Are you here to warn me against playing with fire?" she asks him.

"Essentially."

"Duly noted," she takes a sip from her coffee, "Is that all?"

"He isn't here, is he?" the man glances toward her apartment, sweeping his gaze from one end to the other.

"Did you just X-ray my apartment? Without a search warrant?" she protests.

"No?" he lies.

"Wayne Scott, that is just rude," she scolds him.

"Sorry," he says, abashed. He scratches the back of his neck nervously, "I'm just worried about you, Roxy."

She sighs, "I know. But I'm fine."

"How'd this happen? Last week he couldn't get near you without resorting to knock-out spray and tying you up. And now you're... well, this." he swats at the picture by way of an illustration. "What changed? Did he drug you? Hypnotize you? Use some sort of mind control ray? Is he blackmailing you?"

"None of the above," she smiles, "He just...impressed me. I finally really noticed him."

"How? What could he possibly do to turn you around that quickly?"

"I saw his bike," she grinned conspiratorially.

"His bike?" Wayne is confused. Having the ability to fly, he has no use for transportation. So, unlike most rich men, he has no interest in vehicles of any kind. He does not share Roxanne's fascination with motorcycles.

"That hoverbike we've been riding around on. It's gorgeous!" She leans forwards, elbows on the table as she explains, "He put a Studebaker bulletnose on a classic Harley Frame and mounted the whole thing to a hover device I've never even heard of before! It's the prettiest, most _amazing_ thing I've ever laid my eyes on. I could hardly keep my hands off it. And it can _move_. That man is truly brilliant. I think I believe every boast he's ever uttered about that giant head of his. A man with the brains, vision, and talent to make _that_ is someone worth knowing better." She leans back again, her argument made. "When he offered to take me for a ride, I couldn't resist."

"So you're dating him for his bike?" he asks. That would make it easy. He could just smash the bike and the problem would be solved.

"No. He got my _attention_ with his bike. I'm dating him because I like him," she explains. She suspects her friend, who is not always the most subtle of men, might take the direct route and destroy the hoverbike to try to get her away from Megamind. She would be furious if he did.

"How can you possibly like him? He's a little blue bald guy with a giant head who thinks it's fun to tie you up and point guns and lasers at you." Wayne is genuinely confused. As far as he can see, Megamind is almost perfectly opposite every ideal that exists for male humans, both in appearance and personality. Roxanne should not find him attractive in any way.

"None of his threats have ever come close to hurting me, I think he's _very_ attractive, and he's not going to tie me up anymore," she counters, then considers the last item with a naughty smirk, "Unless I ask him to, anyway."

He ignores that last, disturbing, thought. "So, he won't be using you as bait in his evil schemes anymore?"

"No, he won't," she answers confidently.

"So, is he going to let you push the big red button to start his evil robots and things? Or will you just be busting him out of jail after I haul him in? Or maybe you can hold the dehydration gun on the bank tellers while he fills his money bags?"

"That's not funny."

"It isn't meant to be. Roxy, he's a criminal. It's how he makes his living. It's how he gets his kicks. I know he's not _trying _to hurt anyone except me, but people _have_ been hurt, even killed, by his stunts. You _know_ that. He loves causing trouble and scaring people. And he's still a thief. If you are with him, it's only a matter of time before he drags you into that."

Roxanne is silent, her arms crossed over her chest. She knows he has a point. He may even be right. But she doesn't want to believe it. There has to be a way to make it work. She knows Megamind can be so much more than just a criminal. But does he want to be? Can she expect him to make such a drastic change just for her? Or will he turn her? Will she find herself decked out in spandex playing the part of his evil queen? Maybe even liking it? "I won't help him break the law," she says resolutely, hoping she can keep to that.

"Every day he's out of prison he's breaking the law. If you hide him, you're helping him," he tells her.

Roxanne looks absolutely miserable. "I know that, Wayne. But what can I do? I think I love him. I can't stay away."

"He's bad for you, Roxy. He'll ruin you."

"Maybe," she concedes, "Or maybe I'll save him."

"I've spent years trying to do that." he runs his hands through his perfectly trimmed hair, "He doesn't want to be saved."

"Not by you," she answers.

Wayne knows it's a lost cause. He's seen Roxannne's stubborn side before. She won't give up on this. Nothing anyone says will convince her. He hopes, for her sake she's right. He hopes she can find a way. He doesn't want to have to start hauling her to prison as well. She's his friend. One of the few he has. If it came to that, he's not sure he'd want to be the hero anymore. It would break his invulnerable heart. "Roxanne..." he starts.

"Just... please. Just leave him alone for awhile," she looks him in the eye imploringly, "Give me a chance with him. Don't haul him back unless he causes trouble. Please? For me?"

He takes a deep breath and blows it out, thinking. "I guess I can do that," he agrees, "As long as he behaves." He looks at her, "But, Roxy... He's never stayed out of trouble for more than a week straight. I'm not sure he knows how."

She smiles at him evilly, "Then I'll just have to give him some incentive to be good, won't I?"

He shakes his head as he stands. "Good luck. You're going to need it," he says as he floats away.

She leans forward, her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. _What have I gotten myself into_, she wonders.

**Review! Pretty please? **


	12. Unexpected Visit

Megamind flies toward Roxanne's apartment building in the middle of town on his hover bike. Suddenly he has a moment of pure panic as he notices a familiar white-clad figure pause in his flight over the city and stare right at him. _Not now_, Megamind thinks, knowing that there is no way to elude the hero with the hoverbike and that he doesn't have any clever escape plans handy. He silently curses his oversight and hopes the man would at least let him park the bike somewhere so Minion can pick it up later. Then, very strangely, the hero nods politely to the villain and continues on his way.

_What just happened?_ Megamind wonders. _He let me go. Why did he let me go? Was there an urgent crime across the city somewhere? He hadn't streaked off at super speed. _It doesn't make any sense to the blue man. He realizes he'd stopped in mid-air and is staring at the point where Metro Man had disappeared to. He shakes his head and continues along his previous course, looking back occasionally to see if the hero would reappear and take him in.

Megamind pulls up beside Roxanne's balcony and 'parks' the bike before jumping over the rail and knocking on her balcony door. He hadn't planned to come over this evening, but he'd spent the last hour pacing the evil lair unable to concentrate on anything at all. Finally Minion had suggested he go visit her and he'd jumped at the idea. Minion was relieved to get him out of the lair. His pacing was making the brainbots nervous and irritable.

He can't see inside the apartment because her curtains are drawn, but he hears Roxanne's voice from inside, "Wayne, I swear if you're here to give me another lecture on why good girls don't date supervillains, I swear I'm going to find out if your powers will protect you from me kicking my shoe up your butt." The door opens to reveal the lovely Roxanne clad casually in yoga pants and a T-shirt. Contrary to what her rant would seem to suggest her feet were, in fact, bare. "Megamind!" she exclaims, instantly beaming at her surprise visitor. She grabs his collar and pulls him stumbling inside, out of view of any paparazzi that might be waiting to snap pictures of her balcony. She closes the door behind him before kissing him thoroughly in greeting.

"Mmmm," he says against her lips, "Did you miss me?"

"No, not at all," she lies with a teasing grin, pulling her lips away and wrapping her arms around him under his cape, "Did you miss me?"

"Yes, in fact, I did," he answers, wrapping his own arms around her also. "And what sort of villain would I be if I didn't do just exactly whatever I wanted to? So, I came right over," he says cheerfully, "Has Metro Mahn been bothering you?" he asks, "I must admit I'd never considered your idea with the shoe. It might actually work. Maybe I could make a giant pointy-toed bootwheel of death and get rid of that pesky superhero for you." He kisses her again, feeling insanely happy that he's allowed to kiss her pretty much whenever he feels like it. "Of course making him stand still for it is always a problem," he continues seriously.

She giggles at her villain. "No, he hasn't really been bothering me. But he did come over this morning to try to talk me out of dating you."

"He didn't succeed did he?" he asks. Their position with their arms wrapped loosely around each other makes him confident in the answer, but he wants to hear her say it.

"Of course not, silly Spaceman," she kisses him on the nose, "You really think he could win an argument with _me_? Even if he won, I'd never admit it. I'm _way_ too stubborn."

"Sounds familiar," he chuckles, "No wonder I like you." He kisses her on her neck under her jaw. His goatee tickles and makes her pull away.

She steps back from him, her hand gripping his and pulls him over to a pair of tall stools sitting along the back side of her kitchen counter. She sits and takes a sip from a drink she'd apparently been enjoying when she'd heard the knock at the door. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks politely.

"Not right now, but thank you," he answers. He unclasps his cape and drapes it over the back of the stool before sitting. "Speaking of Metro Mahn, something odd did occur on the way over," he says, "He spotted me flying on the hoverbike and he didn't do anything to me. He just nodded at me and went back to whatever he was doing. That's never happened before. He always hauls me back to prison on-sight. It was disconcerting."

"Oh, that's because I asked him to leave you alone," she answers simply.

The villain blinks in surprise and actually takes a second to process that statement. "Wait. You asked Metro Mahn, sworn protector of Metrocity, to leave me, the most wanted criminal in the entire city, alone. And he just agreed?"

"No," she answers, "I asked Wayne Scott, my very good friend, not to bother my boyfriend." She smiles smugly at him. A thrill runs through Megamind at being referred to as Roxanne's boyfriend. "He agreed, but only so long as you didn't cause any trouble. He said you've never behaved yourself for more than a week straight and that he didn't think you knew how."

"Of course I know how!" he objected, offended to be accused of not knowing something, "It's just... boring. So I don't." He crosses his arms across his chest, pouting slightly.

"Prove it," she challenges.

"What? Be good for a week?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Or longer. I don't believe being a supervillain is your destiny, Megamind," she takes his leather-clad hand again and looks into his green eyes, "You try so hard to be evil, but you're not. You're not ruthless or cruel. You're not mean. You're just mischievous and too clever for your own good," she leans forward, her voice low, "I think, deep down underneath, you're actually a good man."

He stares down at their clasped hands. Black leather against her fair skin. "How is it that you can see good in me, Roxanne? Everyone else sees nothing but bad. My whole life, you're the only one who's ever seen me as anything but a villain," he glances back up at her, meeting her blue eyes, "Why do you care so much? What if you're wrong? Why would you take that risk?"

"Because I love you," she tells him, her gaze unwavering.

His eyes widen in shock. "You do?" It's more than he'd hoped for. He thought she'd liked him, but no more than that. Not yet. It was too soon to hope for that. But she said it. She loves him. It was the fulfillment of every dream or wish he'd ever had in his entire life. "You love me? Really?"

"Yes," she answers.

He rises to his feet and pulls her into a fierce hug, spinning her around the room grinning. He hardly believes his luck. He releases her from his arms, taking both her hands in his. "Oh, Roxanne! I love you too. I've loved you for years and it was maddening knowing you didn't feel the same. You want me to be good? For you, I'll do anything."

She laughs at his joy and enthusiasm.

A loud banging knock at the door interrupts them. A voice shouts, "Police! Open up!"

Wide-eyed, she stares at Megamind, "I don't want you to go back to prison," she whispers.

He glances at the door and back at her, "I won't," he answers, touching his watch and twisting the dial. His body shimmers and in its place stands Metro Man. She gasps in shock. He raises a finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet and winking at her. His eyes are still bright green. "Open the door, Roxy," he tells her, in Metro Man's voice.

She does, and just in time. She sees the officers preparing to batter her door open with a small ram. Before she can say anything, Metro Man steps to the door in view of the startled and relieved officers. "You just missed him." he says, "he took the stairs." he glances toward where the stairway is and narrows his eyes, tracking downward as if X-raying the stairway from top to bottom. "He's on the sixteenth floor." he tells them. "You try to catch him from the top, I'll fly down and cut him off at the bottom." The officers hesitate a second, before nodding and turning back down the hallway. He closes the door and switches off the disguise.

"Come with me." he tells her, "You didn't do anything illegal. But once they find out I tricked them, they'll arrest you anyway. If you stay here, you'll probably end up spending the night in jail. If you come with me, you can call your lawyer in the morning and get it all cleared up without getting arrested."

She hesitates for only a second before grabbing her purse, sliding her feet into a pair of slippers and following him out onto the balcony. They mount up quickly and are gone before the police reach the ground floor.


	13. Welcome to My Evil Lair

They fly through the night, circling the city and approaching the industrial district from the far side. Megamind has some reservations about trusting Roxanne with the location of his home, but decides to risk it. She needs somewhere safe to stay tonight, and this is the safest place in the city. Besides, she'd shown him more trust in the last few days than he'd ever expected her to. He feels that he owes her some trust in return. Especially if she really does love him.

Megamind takes his bike down to ground level on a vacant, poorly-lit street and follows it to the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse. He turns towards a blank wall and drives straight at it. "You might want to close your eyes," he warns her and feels her squeeze him tighter in response. They pass through the holographic projection that disguises the secret entrance to his evil lair and into a large, dimly lit room with various machines lining the walls, powered down for storage. He parks the bike in an empty space between his now-visible invisible car and his spiderbot. The spiderbot turns towards its master with interest, then settles itself and returns to sleep.

He helps Roxanne off the bike and then climbs down himself. No sooner do his boots touch the ground than they're surrounded by an eager swarm of excited brainbots. Roxanne hides behind him, overwhelmed by the crowd of fierce-looking mechanical creatures. They float around the pair in a noisy cloud, bow-bowing to get their daddy's attention. He smiles affectionately at his pets, "Did you miss Daddy?" he asks playfully as he roughly rubs the domes of the closest ones. Then he pushes them aside, reaching over to a nearby table where he keeps a stash of extra wrenches. He selects one and holds it up for the entire pack to see. He shakes it enticingly and all the brainbots' glowing red eyes are on it. "You want it?" he asks. They all bow-bow affirmatively, squirming in mid-air in anticipation. "Go get it!" he calls as he throws it as hard as he can toward the far end of the room. The bots race after the tool, jostling each other in their eagerness to be the one to claim the prize. It strikes the wall with a clank, followed by a clattering as one brainbot, too intent on following the wrench to notice the wall, rams right into the bricks. It falls to the floor, stunned, before rising unsteadily and shaking itself. "I saw that, 678," he calls out, chuckling. Roxanne finds herself stifling a giggle at the poor bot's misfortune, glad to see it isn't damaged. 678 slinks off behind a line of storage shelves with an electronic whine, the wrench and its brothers temporarily forgotten.

Megamind takes a deep breath, finally able to relax now that he's home, "Welcome to my evil lair, Roxanne." He leads her further in, toward where several brainbots are fighting over the wrench.

Roxanne is looking around her wide-eyed. Most of the inventions in the room are familiar to her, though there are a few new ones. They pass an open doorway that she glances into. Inside she sees a room full of rack upon rack of brainbots in sleep mode, "How many of those do you have?" she asks in awe.

"Three thousand two-hundred and sixteen," he answers, "But not all here. I have several stashes around the city in case I need them. Most of them are inactive, like those," he gestures at the room with the sleeping bots, "But I usually keep thirty or forty awake. More if I need them. My robot horde," he says proudly.

"Why do you need so many?" she asks, trying to imagine what a swarm of that many brainbots would look like.

"I don't usually," he answers, "But I needed them three years ago for the New Year's Resolution of Evil."

She remembers that one, now that he mentions it. There were brainbot pieces all over Central Square by the end of the night. "I thought Metro Man destroyed all of those."

"He did. But we salvaged most of them. There were only thirty-seven damaged beyond repair." He seemed bothered by the number he hadn't saved.

"That must have been a lot of work to fix. Why bother?" she asks, puzzled.

"I owed it to them. They trusted me. It wouldn't be right if I just abandoned them," he answers, "Besides, it isn't as difficult as it sounds. The bots can fix each other for the most part. They only need me if the damage is particularly extensive or if the organic portions are wounded. They're not very good with tissue repair."

"They're actually alive?" This surprises her. She always thought they were some sort of artificial intelligence.

"Yes," he confirms, "They're cyborgs. Very intelligent. I suspect a few of them are even sentient, but they won't admit it." He grins like a proud father. "They're really my favorite creations, but don't tell the spe-ider bot. It'll sulk," he winks at her and she isn't sure if he's serious or not.

"Is the spiderbot a cyborg too?" she asks.

"No, it's just an AI with delusions of grandeur. I think it's jealous of the brainbots, though. Sometimes it catches one to play with and the rest of the pack will have to go in and rescue it. I don't think the spe-ider bot's actually trying to hurt the brainbots. But it's so much bigger than them and it plays too rough," he frowns as he thinks about the problem, clearly concerned for the safety of his creatures, "I've considered scrapping it, but it's never actually killed a brainbot and isn't aggressive toward anything else. I don't want to put it down if I don't have to."

Roxanne finds herself looking at Megamind's creations in a new light. She had thought of them as complex inventions, not thinking creatures. She's impressed by Megamind's concern for their well-being. "That's a very compassionate attitude," she observes, "Not something I'd expect from someone whose destiny is to be evil."

"Perhaps." He grins slyly at her. "But, they _are_ creatures of evil. Monsters. Would someone who was good create them in the first place?"

She looks at two bots playing tug-of-war with the wrench and thinks about the way they'd greeted their master with such obvious joy. More like rambunctious dogs than monsters. "I don't think they're monsters," she decides, "They're just…different." She turns toward him and traces her finger down his cheek, looking into those brilliant green eyes that were so much brighter than anyone else's she'd ever met, "Like you," she says before leaning in toward him for a kiss.

That's how Minion finds them a few minutes later: standing in the middle of the room kissing, oblivious to the curious brainbots that have gathered around to watch. Minion is pleased to see them getting along so well, but is surprised to see it so soon. He hadn't expected Megamind to bring her here for weeks yet. He wonders what happened to change the plan.

To keep from staring at them, the fish looks around the untidy room, a little embarrassed that he hadn't had time to clean up the place.

He starts to wonder if he should wander off to another part of the lair to give them some privacy when they finally come up for air. Instead of pulling apart, they shift their heads to either side and move closer, their chins over each other's shoulder as they embrace. Megamind finally opens his eyes and is startled to find Minion and all the brainbots watching them. His cheeks blush purple in embarrassment and he pulls away from Roxanne.

She opens her own eyes to notice their audience. She grins wickedly and kisses him quickly on the lips one more time before releasing him and straightening her clothes. "Hello, Minion," she greets the fish, "How are you tonight?"

"Oh, fine, Miss Ritchi. I hadn't expected you to visit us today."

"Neither did I," she admits with a smile, "But it was either this or probably spend the night in jail. So, here I am."

"Jail?" gasps the suddenly panicked fish, "Sir! What did you _do_?"

"_Nothing_, Minion!" he exclaims, "Well," he reconsiders the statement, "_hardly _anything. I impersonated Metro Mahn in order to mislead some officers who were there to arrest me in Roxanne's apartment," he explains.

"Sir!" squealed the shocked henchman.

"Oh, relax, Minion. _She_ didn't do anything illegal. She opened the door when the police asked and she didn't say a word about whether or not I was really Metro Mahn. She's completely innocent. And she didn't resist arrest herself because I got her out of there before the cops had a chance to even think about it. There's nothing they can really charge her with, but you know Metrocity's finest. Arrest first and ask questions later. Or maybe that's just for me." His brows furrow as he wonders if he had over-reacted. Would they really have arrested Roxanne? If it had been anyone else but him, he didn't think so. But he'd made the MCPD look incompetent so many times over the years that they really had it in for him. Since they now suspect that Roxanne's involved with him, he thinks they won't be above harassing her to get to him. "Anyway, I thought it was safest to bring her here tonight and let her lawyer sort it out in the morning."

Minion realizes his jaw is hanging open and he snaps it shut with an audible click. "That sounds reasonable, sir," he admits once his brain has a chance to process the information. "If they know you two are together, they'll be watching Miss Ritchi constantly in hopes that she'll lead them to you. They'll probably want to bring her in for questioning, at the very least."

"I know. We'll have to be more careful. I'm a fugitive, Roxanne." He shrugs apologetically. "It makes life interesting."

"I'm beginning to see that," she answers. "How did your watch turn you into Metro Man, anyway? That was incredible."

He grins, happy to show off one of his toys, "It's a disguise generator." He turns something on the watch and he shimmers into the form of Metro Man.

"A hologram?" she guesses.

"No," he answers in the hero's own voice, "The first version I made projected a hologram. But it couldn't interact with things believably. If I touched something, it would pass right through the illusion to my real body."

Roxanne poked his arm with a finger, testing it. It felt just like Metro Man's real arm. The right texture and the surface yielded to her touch realistically. "So what is it?"

"A hard light projection. There's also a spatial distortion field and a voice simulator."

"Spatial distortion?" she asks.

"Yes, it changes the way normal space fits with the space I occupy. Metro Man is taller than I am, not just bulkier. The spatial distortion effectively increases my size to correspond to the disguise. It can also decrease my size, especially my head, so I can fit within the illusion of a smaller person. Like a child." He switches disguises, wearing the form of an adorable 12-year-old boy with red hair and green eyes. The child smirks at her with a very unchildlike expression, "Nobody notices children, most of the time," he says in a boy's voice, "And they don't put _human_ kids in prison."

"That tiny little watch does all that?" She is impressed.

"Yes. It's taken years to perfect it, though. The earlier versions had to be carried in a backpack." He switches the disguise off, shifting back to his normal blue self.

"But it doesn't change your eyes," she observes, finding a point of weakness in his design, as usual.

"No," he acknowledges, "The projection is opaque. If I put it over my eyes, I would be blind. I can wear colored contacts if necessary. They won't pass a retinal scan, but that's not usually a problem."

"Usually?" She wonders why he'd have to pass a retinal scan.

"I _am_ a supervillain, Roxanne. Sometimes I need to rob high-security facilities for my materials," he explains. "The easiest way to gain access to a place like that is to dehydrate someone authorized and impersonate them. I have to steal the IDs beforehand, but I didn't spend all that time in prison without learning how to pick a pocket. The disguise generator will pass voice and fingerprint recognition scans. I have devices to crack keycodes and passwords, if I can't learn them beforehand. I've even fooled men's own wives long enough to get what I needed."

She looks with new appreciation, "And you _haven't_ managed to take over the city yet?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" he answers.

With one final tug, one brainbot finally pulls the wrench out of the jaws of the other, stumbling slightly in the air as it regains its balance. The loser emits an electronic sniff, and wanders off, pretending not to care about the wrench at all. After chewing on the tool a bit, the victor flies over to Roxanne and drops it at her feet. "Bow-Bow," it tells her. When she doesn't immediately retrieve the tool, the bot picks it up in its pincer and pushes it into her hand. "Bow-Bow," it repeats.

"I think 473 likes you, Miss Ritchi," observes Minion. Megamind scowls, slightly jealous that the bot had chosen Roxanne instead of him.

She grins, "You want me to throw the wrench?" she asks it.

"Bow-Bow!" It floats higher and bobs in anticipation. Three more brainbots notice and drift over, eager to play also.

She throws the wrench across the room, being careful not to hit any of the inventions stored along the wall. The four brainbots dart after it. So does 678, who had been sulking behind the nearby storage shelves. As it sails over the shelf in pursuit, its tentacles accidentally clip a large can on the top shelf, sending it tumbling to hit Megamind's on the head. "Ow!" he yells. The impact knocks the lid off and dark blue paint pours from the container and rolls down his neck and his costume. It dribbles onto his custom baby seal leather boots and spatters onto the floor. "Argh! 678!" he growls, "You dim-witted creation of science! Look what you did!" He's standing with his arms held out, paint dripping off the fingers of his gloves. Roxanne smothers a giggle at the sight. "You will clean up this mess!" He orders the guilty bot. 678 seems to droop in the air as it floats off to retrieve cleaning supplies.

Megamind strips his gloves off in disgust, throwing them to the floor. He steps out of the puddle and, leaning a hand against the shelf for balance, kicks off his ruined boots. He wipes some paint off the side of his face and sighs. "I'm going to need a shower," he says, "Minion, could you keep Roxanne company while I get cleaned up?"

"Of course, Sir," Minion answers.

Megamind turns and walks off, muttering darkly under his breath.

Once his master is out of ear-shot, Minion allows himself to laugh and Roxanne joins him.


	14. A Chat with Minion

Roxanne is perched on a tall stool set against the back of a kitchen counter inside Megamind's Evil Lair. It looks as if several rooms along one side of the old building had been opened up and remodeled into a small apartment. When Roxanne asks about it, Minion confirms that that was, in fact, exactly what had happened.

"We've been in this building a little over two years," he tells her, "The last lair was really primitive and Sir wanted something a little nicer when we moved into this one. It's hardly Better Homes and Gardens, but at least I'm not constantly moving brainbot tissue vats out of the way just to fry an egg."

The kitchen is very simple. The cabinets are builder grade oak laminate with a black Formica countertop. They're arranged in a U-shape with two sides against the walls and the third side sticking out into the room, providing a space that can be used either for food preparation or eating. It contains the expected refrigerator, electric oven, and microwave. She is surprised at first to see no dishwasher until she considers the army of brainbots just on the other side of the lair. They can probably do dishes better than the dishwasher she has in her apartment.

Minion is rummaging through the fridge and pantry trying to decide what to make. "I could make spaghetti or stir-fry," he offers, "Tomorrow's my market day, so I'm a little low on supplies. Otherwise I'd offer you more," he opens the freezer and adds a third possibility, "There's also a frozen pizza."

"Stir-fry sounds good," she decides, "I can help you cut things up." She's not used to having a servant cook for her and she likes being able to contribute. It only feels right to offer help. She'd feel weird otherwise.

Minion turns around in his dome, looking at her oddly over the back of his robot gorilla suit. Megamind never assists Minion with the food preparation and will only ever make something himself if Minion is asleep or out of the lair. Her offer of help takes him by surprise. "That would be nice, Miss Ritchi," he says, pleased by her consideration.

Soon he has all the necessary ingredients and equipment out and has a pot of water heating to a boil on a back burner for the rice. He's standing on one side of the peninsula slicing raw chicken into pieces while she's on the other chopping fresh vegetables. Minion enjoys the unusual companionship of having someone share his domestic work. However, there is something on his mind. "Miss Ritchi," Minion says, flicking his fins nervously and setting his knife down on his cutting board, "You know that it's my job to look after Sir, right?"

"Yes," she answers. She knows it's more than Minion's _job_. It's his purpose in life. That's what a minion is. He's something between a friend, protector, parent, and servant all rolled into one. Though it seems an odd relationship to Roxanne, especially for a creature that is essentially a fish, she is grateful that Megamind has Minion. If Megamind had come to Earth alone, Roxanne doubts he would have even survived.

The fish nods his body in its dome before continuing, "I wanted to ask you, while I had you alone," he hesitates, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she asks, confused.

"Why are you dating him?" he clarifies, "What are your intentions?"

She understands and giggles, "Minion, are you asking me if my intentions toward Megamind are honorable?" The idea that the _villain's_ minion would question if _her_ intentions were honorable strikes her as funny. Aren't the villains supposed to be the ones with the questionable morality?

Minion bobs nervously in his tank. "Yes, Miss Ritchi. I suppose I am." He's a bit disconcerted by her laughter.

She reaches out and pats his robotic forearm reassuringly, "You're a good friend to worry about him, Minion," She says, smiling warmly at the fish, "Yes. My intentions are completely honorable. I think he's a great guy, and I want to get to know him better. I can't promise where that will lead, but I'm not toying with him. I think he's fascinating. There isn't anyone I'd rather be with. I'm definitely hoping that it turns into a long-term relationship."

"It might turn ugly," Minion warns her, "People hate him and he's done a lot to encourage that. They may take it out on you."

She nods, her face serious, "I know. It's already started. I'm beginning to get nasty emails and voice mails. People don't like the idea of Metro Man's _girlfriend_," she rolls her eyes as she says this, "choosing his archenemy. _They_ don't approve. _Metro Man_ doesn't approve. My_ mother_ doesn't approve. But I don't care. I've spent too many years doing what other people think I should do."

Minion nods again. "So has he."

"What do you mean?" she asks, startled, "He's _never_ done what people think he should do. He's always breaking the rules and causing trouble. He's a supervillain."

"Which is exactly what everyone thought he should be," Minion explains, "Looking the way he does, growing up in prison: what else was he _supposed_ to be? Then add to that the knowledge that he'd been born to rule his people and the belief that he's destined for something important. Well, what else would he think he was supposed to be, Miss Ritchi?"

Roxanne thinks that makes a horrible kind of sense. "Is it what you thought he should be, Minion?"

"Oh, I don't know," he thrashes his fins in frustration, "Not at first, but it's what he decided he wanted and I'm his minion. It's not my place to choose his path. Just to help him along it. If he wants to be evil, I help him be evil. I'm not sure if he even has a choice anymore. Being the villain is so much a part of who he is now," the fish frowns, "Who knows? Maybe it _is_ his destiny. He enjoys the challenge of it and it gives him a goal to work toward. It's even fun in a lot of ways," he shrugs, "But maybe he'd be happier settling down and raising a family," he raises one eye-ridge as he gazes pointedly at Roxanne, "If that's an option, that is."

She blushes and looks away; suddenly very intent on chopping the bell pepper on her cutting board. "It might be an option," she admits quietly, "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I've only been with him a few days. It's way too early to start thinking about _that_."

"Of course, Miss Ritchi." He returns his attention to slicing chicken. "But… I heard you read his palm and put the idea of a wife and family into his head in the first place. And then you _licked_ his neck," observes Minion, being careful not to look at Roxanne while he makes this accusation. "He's never had any human friends, much less a girlfriend. One evening alone with you and he's rethinking his entire life." Minion sighs, not really sure where he's going with this, but determined to warn her, "Just… be careful, Miss Ritchi. This isn't a game. I don't want to see him hurt. Not that way."

"Love is a risk, Minion. I can't give you a guarantee," she says, "But I can tell you that I want this to work as much as he does. I don't want to be hurt either."

Minion decides he'll have to accept that. It's really the most he can hope for at this point anyway. He turns toward the stove and sets the wok on a burner, turning up the heat. When it's hot, he adds some oil and most of the chicken pieces. He drops the remaining chicken straight into his tank and gulps it down quickly.

"You eat raw chicken?" she asks, surprised.

"Yes," he answers, "Though I prefer fish." He turns to wash his contaminated mechanical hands at the sink with water so hot that Roxanne can see steam rising from it.

"You eat fish?" He _is_ a fish. Wouldn't that be sort of cannibalistic?

"With these teeth? I'm a carnivore, Miss Ritchi. I'm supposed to eat fish. In fact, I prefer catching them live out in the open water. But I only get to do that when we go out to the cove or somewhere like that. In a pinch, I can survive on most foods Sir can eat, but meat, preferably fish, is what my system is designed for." He adds rice to the now-boiling water. He thinks perhaps he should apologize to her for eating in front of her, "I'm sorry, I'm used to just gulping scraps of meat while I'm making Sir's meal. You probably don't like watching me eat. I _am_ rather like the alligators in my table manners."

"No, it's fine," she assures him, "I was just surprised."

Before she can say more, a door in the nearby hallway opens and Roxanne leans back slightly to catch a glimpse of a freshly showered Megamind wearing nothing but a black towel wrapped around his waist. She grins appreciatively at his bare blue back as he walks away from her and into another room, oblivious to her scrutiny. She turns back to Minion, who is watching her with an amused little smirk.

"What?" she asks, "Can't I appreciate the view?"

"Doesn't bother me," answers Minion, shrugging his mechanical ape shoulders. He picks up her cutting board with its chopped vegetables and scrapes them into the pan. "I'm actually glad that you _do_ like how he looks. Most humans don't."

"Blue was always my favorite color," she admits, "His skin is such a pretty shade." She stares off into nowhere for a moment, imagining running her hands along that bare blue back. She shakes her head to prevent her thoughts from continuing along those lines. "If you'll point out where the plates and things are, I'll set the table," she offers.

Minion directs her to the right cabinets and drawers and orders a brainbot to bring a second stool into the kitchen. Since Minion's robot suit never needs to sit, there is only one counter stool and no table and chairs at all. There has never been any reason to provide more seating space and Megamind had not designed his living quarters to accommodate guests. Luckily, the counter was long enough for two people.

Megamind returns in a fresh spandex bodysuit with both his feet and hands bare. Roxanne is setting out the flatware and Minion is fluffing the rice. Soon everything is ready and set on the counter. Minion dumps the dirty dishes in the sink for later and hastily retreats to the main room of the lair, despite Roxanne's insistence that he's welcome to stay. They are alone.

**Yeah, I know. This is more like half a chapter. I'm trying to decide what her and Megs are going to do tonight, now that Minion's left them alone in the living quarters. Anyone have any suggestions? I thought you guys would appreciate having something to read sooner rather than later, though. Hope it's not too rushed. **

**On another note, I know they're moving fast. I don't feel like writing out a dozen dates while they slowly ease into familiarity with each other. Some people move fast. So, let's pretend they move fast. Okay? How fast? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. :) **

**Review please. **


	15. Dinner and a Movie

**This was kind of hard for me to write. I'm not sure if the discussing movies bit really worked very well, but they had to do something. I didn't want to send them straight off to bed after dinner, despite the recommendations of some of you dirty little monkeys. I also kept it to a T rating, I believe. **

Megamind slides into the second stool beside Roxanne at the counter. As usual, Minion's culinary skills are commendable but the alien genius barely takes note of the food. Something with chicken and rice is as much detail as he notices. He has eyes only for his lovely Roxanne. She is here. Alone with him. In his home. Just down the hall from his bedroom. Where she will be sleeping tonight. His brain shuts down for a second as he imagines her lying between his sheets, her head on his pillow. Is it possible they'll be sleeping together? No, it's too soon. He drags his mind reluctantly away from that fantasy. He reminds himself firmly that he is a gentleman and will not behave like a hormone-crazed teenager.

He will take the couch tonight. It is the only proper thing to do. If he moves too fast, he'll scare her off and ruin everything. He must be patient, but it won't be easy. He's not a naturally patient person and now that he's so close to what he's always wanted, it's especially hard to hold back. When he was just kidnapping her, secure in the knowledge that she felt nothing for him, it wasn't so difficult. He knew if he'd tried, she'd have been horrified by the very idea. But now that there's hope, it's all he can think of. He will do whatever it takes to win her. He's determined not to squander the opportunity.

Besides, now is not the time to focus on what will or, more likely, will not happen in his bedroom later. He knows that the ultimate goal of dating is for both of them to get to know each other better so they can decide whether to become mates. He's already made his decision, of course: there's no woman he'd rather have. But he's sure she hasn't. He knows so much about her already from years of watching her, but she doesn't know nearly as much about him. He has mixed feelings about sharing his private thoughts and history with her. What if he says something that horrifies her? Something that makes her rethink what she's doing? Makes her suddenly realize that she's dating an extraterrestrial criminal with no redeeming qualities other than his love for her? He wonders if he's mad to think that might be enough and marvels once again that she's here at all.

She's looking at him with an amused smile and he realizes he's been staring at her stupidly with what he suspects is a rather sappy grin. Despite the fact that he's the most intelligent being on the entire planet, she has the ability, by her mere presence, to turn him into a brainless mass of goo. It sometimes feels like half his brain shuts down when she smiles at him and the parts that remain active are _not_ those associated with reason and intelligent conversation. He mentally shakes himself and solves a couple of calculus equations in his head to focus himself.

"Um," he starts. _Oh, that's intelligent_, he berates himself. "So, what were you and Minion talking about?" he asks, trying to sound casual. _Yes, that's good. That should be a safe topic,_ he thinks. To enhance the casualness of his question, he attempts to prop his chin in his hand with his elbow resting on the counter. Unfortunately, he's looking at Roxanne rather than what he's doing and his elbow misses the countertop entirely, causing him to fall forward awkwardly before catching himself with his other hand. He recovers quickly and does his best to pretend nothing happened.

She thinks he's cute when he's nervous. "Mostly you," she answers truthfully. "He wanted to know if my intentions were honorable."

"You're kidding, right?" he asks without thinking. She shakes her head negatively. She's serious. "He's worried that _your_ intentions aren't honorable? _ I'm_ the villain here." He feels vaguely insulted, as if his villainous reputation had been slandered. He rolls his eyes and affects a blasé pose, "If I didn't know better, I'd think it was his first day being evil."

She giggles, thinking that he really is funny. "That's what I thought," she agrees.

He likes to hear her laugh and smiles at her fondly. "What did you tell him?" he asks. To tell the truth, he'd been wondering about her intentions as well. He's willing to take her on whatever terms she offers, but he would feel better knowing that she isn't toying with him.

"That I want this to work as much as you do," she answers seriously. She meets his eye briefly and then looks away to sip her iced tea.

"And how much is that?" he wonders aloud. Does she know just how much he would do to have her even for a few days?

"Enough that you'd give up being evil, if what you told me in my apartment was true," she smirks at him, knowing she has him wrapped around her little finger already and he doesn't even know it.

_Damn_, he thinks, _I did say that, didn't I?_ "If I want you enough to turn good, does that mean you want me enough to turn evil?" He runs his eyes along her body, considering. "You'd make an excellent Evil Queen, Roxanne."

"And dedicate my life to helping you defeat Metro Man?" she asks skeptically.

"With your help, I'm sure we could do it," he encourages her, fantasizing about her standing beside him in her own black spandex and leather. He's sure Minion could come up with something _fantastic_ for her.

"Perhaps," she acknowledges. She knows that she can often spot exactly how his scheme will fail from the outset. If she were to be his beta tester, it would improve his odds immensely. However, they'd still be up against an invulnerable opponent. So, the results would probably be the same. "But _I'd_ rather not go to prison every other week or so. Besides, Wayne is my friend. I couldn't hurt him."

"He's invulnerable," he agrees, "Even I've never been able to hurt him."

"There's more ways to hurt someone than physically," she points out, "If I forced him to start hauling me to prison along with you, that would hurt him."

"Would it hurt him enough to make him give up being the hero?" he asks eagerly.

"I doubt it," she answers carefully, "I'd rather if _you_ gave up being the villain."

"But it's all I've ever done," he answers, his voice carrying a distinctly immature whine.

She props her face in her hand with her elbow on the counter and does it with far more success than he had earlier. She raises one eyebrow as she looks him in the eye. "You're telling me that the smartest man on the planet can't figure out how to switch careers?"

"No, of course not. Not that I _can't_. I can do _anything_," he boasts.

"But are you going to?" she inquires.

"You're really not going to let me keep being evil, are you?" he asks her, realizing he's defeated and probably has been ever since he offered her that first ride on his hoverbike.

"I don't think I could make you do anything you don't want to, Megamind," she says with a sly grin on her face, "But if you _want_ to be with me, those are the conditions. You have to quit being a supervillain."

He considers his choice. Could he really give up being evil? He and Minion had discussed the possibility and even formed tentative plans.

Dating her has already thrown a wrench into the works when it comes to his schemes to defeat Metro Man. He won't be able to use her as bait anymore. Of course, he'd been challenging the hero for years before Roxanne came into the picture, so that isn't necessarily an insurmountable obstacle. And he could always find another hostage that means something to the hero. His mother, perhaps. But he doesn't feel much enthusiasm for that idea. Metro Man's mother is an idiot.

If he was ever going to retire from villainy, this would be an excellent opportunity. He can easily move all his assets out of evil schemes and into legitimate investments. He can predict the markets well enough that the returns would be nearly as lucrative. And without the need to build a new weapon of mass destruction (or at least extreme irritation) every week or two, his expenses will be significantly less. He might even be able to make a legitimate living by developing helpful devices and selling them on the open market. His dehydration technology alone could revolutionize the shipping industry, particularly for perishable items. And if he chose to sell his weapons technology he'd stand to be richer than Bill Gates. Although… that might still count as evil. He's not sure.

None of that would change the fact that he's still a fugitive with 76 life sentences, but that's merely an annoyance. It's hard to take his prison sentence seriously when they hold him in a facility that is so laughably easy to escape from. At least for him. For any human, the high-security cell would be inescapable. But for him, it's like being in a yard surrounded with a chain-link fence and a gate that isn't even locked. For the novelty of it, he refuses to use exactly the same escape method twice, even thought many of them would work indefinitely. That's the main reason his escapes take several days to a week to accomplish. If he chose to repeat himself, he could be out within hours every time.

He hopes being good does not mean she'll expect him to actually stay in prison and serve his term. What would be the point in having Roxanne if he can only see her from the other side of a bullet-proof glass wall in a high security visitation room? That would be torture.

"I'm still a fugitive. When they catch me, which they will, do you expect me to _stay_ in prison?" He gazes at her, his expression clearly dubious.

"No, of course not," she assures him, "Then I'd never see you."

"So, I don't have to become a completely law-abiding citizen, then?" he verifies.

"No," she confirms. He's relieved that she isn't going to expect too high a standard of good. After all, she isn't asking him to become a hero. Just to quit being a villain. "Just stop stealing things, terrorizing the city, and, above all, stop trying to defeat Metro Man. If you can do that, I'll consider it good enough for me."

"Do I have to give back all the things I've _already_ stolen?" he asks. That would be a nightmare. Most of the _money's_ already been spent or converted into equipment or upgrades to the lair. The stolen _stuff_ has mostly already been smashed by Metro Man. Would he be expected to take apart his surviving equipment to return its component parts to their rightful owners? He could do it. He has a perfect memory so he knows where everything came from. But it would be a major pain in the backside.

She sighs, "That's probably unrealistic too. Just stop stealing things from now on."

"It'll take about a week to purge my investment portfolio of all the evil assets," he continues.

"Fine," she's getting annoyed now. Just how hard _is_ it to be good? Most people do it more-or-less all their lives, "Just take care of it as soon as you can."

"Roxanne?"

"Yes?" She pushes an annoying bang out of her eyes and wonders what other objections he could possibly have.

"I love you," he says with absolute sincerity.

Her expression softens and her heart melts at those three little words. "I love you too," she answers.

"And I accept your terms," he continues seriously, "I promise I'll be good as long as you're mine."

For a man who's spent nearly his entire life as a criminal and believed that his destiny was to be evil, this is a huge promise. Roxanne understands this. She had not been entirely sure he'd agree to it at all. But now it's like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. This impossible relationship actually has a chance of working. She knows the entire city will still disapprove and think she's depraved, but she knows better and that knowledge will be enough. She hopes.

They grin at each other and clasp hands before turning toward the counter to eat their food. Megamind merely consumes it without taking any particular notice. His mind is on the hand he's holding more than the meal he's eating. Roxanne appreciates the recipe and is impressed that Minion managed to cook each of the various vegetables just enough without any of them turning soggy and limp. They're all nicely crisp with just enough sauce to give the dish the right flavor without being overwhelming. Even the chicken has a nice flavor. "How is it that Minion can cook so well when he mostly eats raw meat?" she asks.

"He's a minion," he shrugs, "That's what they do. I don't like to cook, so he learned to do it for me."

"Did all minions get robot bodies?" she asks. It's obvious to her that Minion could not be so helpful without his artificial body.

"No. That was me. I made him his first body when I was six," he frowns, remembering, "It really didn't work very well, though. I had to control it by remote and it was only two feet tall. It was made out of a coffee can and an erector set, but it did have a laser gun. The teacher didn't like it when I accidentally started a fire with it in class. I had to spend the afternoon in the corner," he says bitterly.

"Wait, you managed, at six, to create a remote-controlled robot with a working laser gun, and the teacher _punished_ you for that?" she asks dismayed, "She should have given you extra credit points! By human standards, you were a prodigy."

"But I wasn't human, Roxanne. I think she was racist," Megamind tells her, "Or would it be speciesist?" he muses, "She never punished _Wayne Scott_ when he accidentally broke things, which he did _all the time_. It really took him years to learn to _fully_ control his powers. But every time _I_ tried to show off one of my ideas or inventions something would go wrong and the teacher would have him fly me to the corner." He narrows his eyes and glowers at the memory. "It's not like I couldn't walk myself, but having him haul me over enhanced the punishment. God, I hate that goody two-shoes _hero_," he sneers.

"Wait, you went to school with Wayne?" asks Roxanne. Wayne had never mentioned that to her.

"For the worst month of my life," he confirms, "And remember, this is coming from a man who grew up in a _prison_, so that's saying something." He smirks self-depreciatingly and then scowls at the memory. "I had such high hopes at first, but none of the other kids ever really liked me. I was always the last one picked for everything. Always teased and bullied. They called me Blueberry and the teacher _let_ them. Once, Wayne Scott nearly broke my arm with a dodgeball. Did _he_ get in trouble? No, not the teacher's _pet_. I invented a helmet to protect myself from dodgeballs, but even that landed me in the corner." He sighs, staring down at his plate and pushing bits of chicken around absently, "Fitting in was never really an option. So, I made a paint bomb and turned everyone blue," he grins evilly, "That was my first intentional act of evil. Minion was horrified. I got expelled immediately. I never went to shool again."

Roxanne thinks that story explains so much about Megamind. Combined with all the other things she knows about his history, she concludes that pretty much everything in his life since he arrived on Earth has pushed him toward a life of crime. He hardly had a choice at all. No wonder he thought it was his destiny. His parents sent him here to save him, and humanity did its best to ruin him. It's tragic. It makes her ashamed to be human.

"I'm starting to understand why you thought being evil was your destiny," she says sadly, "If your parents knew what sort of people they were trusting with their son, they'd never have sent you here."

He shrugs, "Oh, I don't know. Things could be a lot worse."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, I was escaping certain death from a black hole," he points out with good humor, "About anything's better than that."

"True," she admits.

"Besides, I have Minion, my robot horde, and a workshop that any mad scientist would be proud of. I can do about anything I want, so long as I don't mind spending a few days in prison, which isn't really that bad once you get used to it. I'm famous and formidable enough that the government research labs don't dare touch me. And best of all, you're here. It could be _much _worse," he concludes.

"You really are the eternal optimist, aren't you?" she observes.

"If I wasn't, I'd have gone mad by now," he answers.

"Are you sure you haven't?" she teases.

"I don't know." He considers that possibility. "I do think that I'm a space alien from a dead planet and I regularly converse with a fish in a robot gorilla suit. I suppose I could be insane. It would explain a lot."

She laughs at him, "I guess I must be nuts too. I think a spacefish just cooked me dinner and I'm dating a man that's blue."

"Well, you're clearly delusional," he teases.

They dissolve into laughter. After a few minutes, they finish the last bites of their meal and she asks him, "So, what were you planning to do tonight?"

"I'd planned to spend the evening at your place," he answers, "I didn't expect the cops to show up."

"You probably should have, Mr. _Criminal Genius_," she teases, still grinning from before, "Your hoverbike is pretty distinctive and my balcony is not the most inconspicuous place to park it."

"_Incredibly Handsome_ Criminal Genius," he corrects her, "But you're right. The invisible car probably would have been a wiser choice of vehicles." He hadn't considered the car because he knew how much she liked the bike. In retrospect, that was a poor choice. But it did have the fortuitous effect of bringing her here tonight.

"God, we're going to end up like teenagers sneaking around behind our parents' backs trying to see each other."

"I know. I wish I could just walk out in public with you and do whatever it is normal couples normally do. It gets tiresome hiding all the time. But whenever I show my giant blue head, people scream and run away. Then I get arrested."

"Well, to be fair, you usually only come out to rampage through the city. So, the public's reaction is pretty reasonable," she argues.

"Good point," he acknowledges.

Roxanne stands up and starts to gather the plates and silverware.

"You don't have to do that," he tells her, "Minion will take care of it later."

"I know, but it's polite. I'm not going to wash them, but I'll move them over to the sink with the rest of the dirty things," that said, she suits her actions to her words and clears the table. Megamind watches her curiously, belatedly grabbing the glasses and taking them to the sink as well. He wonders if he is inconsiderate to always leave things out and expecting Minion to clean up after him.

Roxanne looks over at the other side of the room which contains a large leather couch in front of a huge flat-screen TV. "With that big TV, I bet you have a great video library."

"Better than that, I've hacked into several major digital movie archives. I can bring up pretty much any movie or television episode ever made." He walks over to a glass tabletop in front of the couch. It seems to levitate at coffee table height without legs or any other visible means of support. From its surface, he proudly retrieves a clunky black remote control with far too many buttons to easily make sense of, "What would you like to see?"

"Oh, wow. How to pick? What types of movies do you like?" What sort of movies would appeal to an evil genius supervillain?

"Horror, Action, Sci-Fi," he shrugs. He actually watches a lot of television, mostly when he's in prison. However, the selection isn't very good there. With a perfect memory, his tolerance for re-runs is extremely low. So, he ends up viewing movies from all genres just to find something he hadn't seen before. When given a proper choice, he generally enjoys exciting movies with chases, explosions, and really eevil villains.

"Okay, horror, then. Do you like zombie movies?"

"I did so long as I thought they were fiction, but ever since that necromancer in Phoenix released his undead horde on the city, they've sort of lost their charm."

"Yeah, I understand that. How about vampires?"

"As long as they don't sparkle."

"Okay, no Twilight. Werewolves?"

"Only if they're not angsty. Wolfmen should be raving monsters howling at the moon, not romantic leads."

"Frankenstein?"

"I love mad scientist movies. I like to figure out if I could actually do what they show. You'd be surprised how often I can. Sometimes I do. Do you remember the Mega Squid from the Depths of Evil?"

"That came from a movie?"

"More-or-less. I really didn't expect that to work, but I just had to see if I could do it," he laughs and insists, "It counts as an almost-win, since Metro Man turned out to be so squeamish about touching it. It sank several ships in the harbor before he finally got the guts to pick it up and fly it over to the Metrocity Aquarium."

Roxanne laughs along with him, "How did you get a saltwater giant squid into Lake Michigan?"

He points to himself, with a smug grin, "Evil Mad Scientist."

"Okay, fine. Keep your secrets. How about alien movies? Are those weird for you?"

"Not really. They're generally so far off the mark that it's not like they're talking about me. Some I like, some I don't. I prefer the ones where the alien is more than just a monster."

"Did you like Men in Black?"

"Somewhat. The main alien was a monster, but all the others were normal people. I do like the idea of so many different types of alien life forms within travel range of Earth, though. There have been times I'd have loved to just hitch a ride on a passing spaceship and try some other planet. Or live in a city with lots of other aliens around where the humans didn't really notice them. Of course, having an entire galaxy contained in a marble is ridiculous. A galaxy is not scalable. Compressing it into that amount of space would collapse it into a black hole."

"Did you see District 9?" she asks, trying a different type of alien movie.

"That was depressingly realistic. I could imagine humans keeping a population of alien refugees prisoner in a camp like that and then being upset that they didn't like it. You remember how Wikus gets injected with that black fluid and started turning into a prawn? That got me wondering whether I could extract the source of Metro Man's power from his DNA and transfer that to myself. Can you imagine how unstoppable I'd be if I had his powers in addition to my brain?"

"I'm glad you didn't figure it out," she answers, disturbed by the mental image of Megamind all bulked up with Wayne's muscles.

"Oh, I figured it out, but I couldn't stand the idea of having a part of him inside of me. That was just creepy." He grimaces at the thought, "And what if I turned completely into a Glaupunk and lost my amazing intellect? I wouldn't be me anymore," he explains.

"Even worse, you might turn into a _hero_," she teases.

"Wouldn't that be awful?" he laughs, "It would absolutely _ruin_ my reputation."

"Okay, okay. How about Doctor Who?

"That series has some great villains. I always liked the Master from the old series. I loved it when he'd steal the Doctor's TARDIS from right under his nose!" he smiles, admiring the audacity of the villain, "I'd like to build a TARDIS some day, but mine would be black with spikes."

"Could you actually build a time machine?"

"I doubt it. The closest I ever got was something I called the Reset Button, but it never worked. The science is impossible." He shakes his head in frustration, "I _could_ make a blue box that's bigger on the inside than the outside, though."

"That would be some fanboy's dream come true," she laughs, then considers it's practical value, "It would also be useful for places where real estate is at a premium. Can you imagine having a huge apartment in the space of a closet? The Japanese would kill for that."

"The problem is it would require a constant power supply. If the power fluctuates, the space inside collapses," he warns, "You wouldn't want to be inside when that happens."

In the end they decide to watch Ghost Rider. Megamind hasn't seen it yet and Roxanne has only seen the beginning. She figures that a movie about a bounty hunter that appears as a skeleton burning with hellfire riding a motorcycle would be something evil enough to appeal to Megamind, even if it is technically a superhero movie.

"I love the way Peter Fonda played the devil in this," she says after the movie is over, "You can tell he was really enjoying himself being evil. It's so much fun to watch." Roxanne is leaning back against Megamind with her legs up on the couch. He has an arm around her and one foot propped on the gravity-defying coffee table.

"Were you actually _rooting_ for the devil, Miss Ritchi?" he asks, amused.

She giggles, "Of course not. I was just enjoying the performance."

"Hmm…" says Megamind, leaning down to press his lips to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, "I think you _like_ villains."

"I like _one_ villain," she answers, "but he promised to give it up and be good." Turning her face up to him, she kisses him long and slow.

As their lips part, he asks, "And you trust him to keep his word? He is a villain. They lie."

"I've always trusted you, Megamind. You haven't disappointed me yet."

Again, they kiss and, as usual, Megamind's brain checks out as he feels her lips against his own. He responds eagerly, pulling her into his lap for a better angle. She reaches her arms up around his neck, idly stoking the back of his neck with her fingertips. He gasps, parting his lips as he enjoys the heavenly sensation on his especially sensitive skin. She takes advantage and darts her tongue into his inviting mouth and his own tongue licks and teases hers back. He moves his bare hands along her back, slipping under the edge of her shirt almost by accident. He pauses for a moment, prepared for her to push him away like she had last night. She doesn't. Instead she arches her back delightfully, stretching like a cat as his hands stroke her bare skin. Their lips part and he looks down at her grinning up at him, her eyes sparkling naughtily. His hands move up her back and find the clasp of her bra. He wonders if she will let him… He unhooks the fastening, loosening the undergarment beneath her shirt. She stares at him, her eyes encouraging, as his hand moves around to her front and explores under the loose lace. She sighs and closes her eyes in pleasure as he touches her, arching her back again to press herself more firmly against his hand.

"Should we move to the bedroom?" he asks her, his voice low and seductive. He completely disregards his earlier intention to sleep on the couch and not to move too fast. Gentleman or not, he wants her. As long as she's willing, he's not going to let anything else stop him. He's waited for nearly 5 years. He can't stand the idea of waiting any longer.

"Yes," she answers, rolling off his lap and standing in front of him, waiting. He rises to his own feet and takes her hand. In a daze, he follows her down the hallway to his bedroom and closes the door behind them. That night he finally takes the one thing he could never bring himself to steal.

**I wonder what's going to happen in the morning? **

**Review, please. **


	16. The Morning After

Roxanne awakes to the feeling of the mattress dipping beside her. She feels warm breath over her face before soft lips brush her own. She smiles against his mouth.

"Good morning, Roxanne," a familiar voice says smugly. After last night, Megamind is feeling possessive of her. He doesn't want to let her leave and go to work, but he knows he has to. That's why he's waking her now. To make sure she has time to get back to her apartment and ready for work without being late. He knows her schedule from years of surveillance and is aware of exactly how much time she has.

She stretches contentedly, showing off an interesting amount of skin as the sheet slides down her naked body. He leans downward and nips playfully at what the sheet has exposed. She giggles.

She opens her blue eyes to look at her new lover and is disappointed, "You're already dressed," she pouts. He is wearing his full supervillain costume, including spiked gloves and cape.

He chuckles at her, "I've been awake for hours. I don't need as much sleep as you do." He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers down her body as his little goatee tickles her skin, "I could get undressed again," he offers, "But then you might be late for work."

"What time is it?" she asks. The windowless bedroom offers no clue as to the time of day and there are no clocks in the room, other than the watch Megamind's wearing which she can't read from her angle.

"Five thirty-seven," he answers, his lips tickling her neck as he answers. He did not glance at his wrist.

She narrows her eyes, "You didn't look at your watch," she observes.

"No," he answers, pulling back to look into her eyes, "I always know what time it is." He wonders if that will bother her. It's another difference between him and a human.

It doesn't. She only laughs at him, "And yet you always wear a watch."

"A wristwatch is familiar. No one glances twice at it. An unexplained device strapped to my arm with no apparent purpose is suspicious," he explains, "A disguise for the disguise generator." He leans in again, kissing her mouth and licking her lips open. She slides her hand up his neck, caressing his skin and drawing him closer. "You could call in sick," he suggests, his voice husky.

She moans in frustration and sits up, "No, I better get ready. There will be enough rumors flying when I get in without adding a suspicious sick day to it. Besides, Daphne is on maternity leave, Paul is out of town, and David has a funeral to attend this morning. I don't want to force the station to scramble to cover for me also, not unless there's a really good reason to."

"Aren't I a really good reason?" he teases, kissing the back of her neck as she sits, "You could tell them I kidnapped you."

"You are a really _bad_ reason," she tells him with a grin. A bad reason she'd love to give into, "Besides, what would I tell them when they ask for the kidnapping story?" She pushes him out of her way and slides out of bed. She collects her scattered clothes from last night. Megamind passively watches as she bends to retrieve them from the floor. She hurriedly dresses, ignoring his leering gaze. She's surprised to find her purse on the side table next to the bed. She'd thought she left it in the kitchen. She opens it to get her hairbrush and runs it through her short brown hair. "You should have woken me earlier if you wanted _that_ again," she looks up at him from under her lashes, "I wouldn't have objected."

"I would have, but I was working on this," says Megamind, handing her iPhone to her, "I added an app to it and some new hardware. It will let us call each other using my secure communications satellite. It's untraceable, unlike your cell network. I wanted to finish it before you left."

She takes her phone and looks at it, noting Megamind's M icon on the display. She turns it over and notices that the backplate has been replaced with one with a bit of a bulge in it. Apparently he needed more space to fit in his hardware. She is not really surprised to learn he has his own communications satellite. It just seems like something he would have. "Why do I have no bars?" she asks, noticing the lack of a signal.

"The lair's shielded. The only communication signals that are allowed in or out are those from my equipment," he explains, "Part of the untraceable fugitive lifestyle, I'm afraid."

"So, no checking my voice mail while I'm here?" she asks.

"I have internet access on my computers," he tells her, "If you need it, I can show you how to check it from there."

"You trust me on your computers?" she asks. She's suddenly struck by how much things had changed in just a few days. At the beginning of the week he'd never have considered explaining his inventions, much less letting her use them. And now he's modifying her phone and offering to let her use his computers.

"Yes," he answers, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. Letting a nosy reporter poke around your system?"

"I trust you, Roxanne. I don't have anything to hide from you. Not anymore." As far as he's concerned, she's his mate now. He trusts her completely. On one level, he knows this is the wrong way to look at things. Humans do not typically form permanent pairs after merely one night of sex, and certainly not after such a short courtship. But his instincts are insisting that she is his now and he's having a hard time looking at her any other way. He knows if this relationship ends, he will be in serious trouble but he can't bring himself to care. He loves her. He wishes he had finished the phone modifications earlier. Unfortunately, she's fully dressed again and probably needs to use the bathroom.

He stands, "Minion made breakfast, when you're ready," he tells her as he leaves the room, "Then I can take you back to your apartment."

0o0o0o0o0

They circle Roxanne's block twice in the invisible car, looking for signs of police activity, before Megamind feels safe letting her out. He turns down an empty alley so she can get out without attracting notice by seemingly appearing out of thin air. "Will I see you tonight?" Megamind asks her.

"As long as I'm not in jail," she answers. Then she considers something, "Don't you dare break me out if I am. I've got a good lawyer. Let him handle it, okay?"

"I hate to think of you in jail," he answers.

"Me too. That's why I'm calling the lawyer as soon as I get upstairs. And _you_ stay out of prison."

"Yes, dear," he promises.

She kisses him goodbye. When she pulls her lips away from him, he leans his forehead against hers, not letting her go just yet. "I love you, Roxanne. People will tell you I don't or I can't, but don't listen. It scares me how much I love you. I don't know what I'd do if you changed your mind." His green eyes gaze into her blue ones desperately, willing her to understand how serious he is.

"I know," she assures him, "I love you too. I won't change my mind. See you tonight." She steps out of the car and walks toward her building, looking back once before turning the corner out of his sight.

0o0o0o0o0

At 7:35am Roxanne emerges from her apartment building again. She's had a shower, done her hair and make-up, and is wearing a pale blue dress. She's ready for work and is pleased to see Hal Stewart pull up in to the curb near her in the news van, five minutes late as usual.

"Good morning, Hal," she greets him cheerfully. She is in a good mood and had even found herself humming as she readied herself for work earlier.

Hal is pleased that she's so happy to see him. Perhaps today would be the day she'd finally let him take her out to lunch or something. "Good morning, Roxy. You seem happy this morning."

"I am," she grins, but doesn't elaborate.

"Any special reason?" he asks, smiling to think he might be responsible for her good cheer.

She sighs contentedly. "No reason," she lies, "It's just a beautiful day. Just look at that pretty blue sky. I feel like something good is going to happen."

"Yeah, maybe they'll finally lock up Megamind for good and you won't have to worry about that freak kidnapping you anymore," Hal offers. He thinks Metro Man isn't doing his job right. He should have taken care of Megamind a long time ago. It always pisses Hal off when that Mega-Loser manages to escape from prison _again_. What is with that place, anyway? Are the walls made of paper? He hates seeing his Roxy in the hands of that evil blue jerk-off.

He is so busy fantasizing about ways Metro Man could beat the crap out of Megamind that he doesn't notice the way her face falls as his words hit her like a bucket of cold water. "No," she says quietly, "I don't think that would be good at all."

"What?" Hal asks, struggling to remember exactly what he'd said, "Do you actually like being kidnapped?"

"No, that's not it. I—" she begins, "Oh, never mind." She crosses her arms and stares out the window.

Her cell phone rings. She glances at it and recognizes the number of her lawyer's office. "This is Roxanne Ritchi," she answers. "Mmm-hmm… Yes, I need Mr. Roberts to check if there's a warrant out for me… Last night… No, I don't really think there is. I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything illegal… Mmm-hmm… All I did was open the door and keep my mouth shut… I don't know, I left before I could find out… Thank you… Yes, I know. Don't say anything at all without my lawyer present and don't go with them unless they actually arrest me… No, I already talked to him. He won't break me out if I am… Okay… Call me when you find out… Thanks… Bye." She clicks the phone off and sighs with relief. One problem taken care of.

Another problem just beginning. "What was that all about, Roxie? Are you going to be arrested?" asks Hal with concern.

"No, of course not. I haven't broken the law," she answers. She's pretty sure she didn't break the law, but she's a little fuzzy about what constitutes harboring a fugitive. She knows she wasn't aiding and abetting.

He's quiet for a minute, considering that. She thinks he's dropped the subject when he asks, "Who's not going to break you out?"

She smiles, "I think everybody's going to _not_ break me out. Especially if I'm _not_ arrested in the first place."

He isn't giving up that easily. His mind might work slowly, but it does work. "No, you said you talked to someone and he wouldn't break you out. Who wasn't going to break you out?"

"Hal, just drop it. My personal life is none of your business."

"Since when does your _personal_ life involve calling lawyers to make sure you're not going to be arrested and warning someone not to break you out if you are?" Hal had heard some rumors about Roxanne lately. He didn't believe them for a second, of course. But Megamind _was_ famous for jailbreaks. If she was involved with him, it would stand to reason the cops would start to notice. "Roxie, please tell me you're not seeing Megamind."

Roxanne clenches her jaw and stares out the window, not saying a word.

"Dammit, Roxie!" Hal curses, "I can't believe you're that stupid. He's a creepy little blue freak. Why would you even be interested in him at all?"

She continues to stare out the window in silence.

"Un-freaking-believable!" At this rate, Hal thinks he's never going to get that date he's been hoping for. If he tries now he's going to get turned into a little blue cube. He wonders if he even wants her if she's been sleeping with Megamind. Who knows what sort of alien or prison STD's he might have given her. "Can this day get any more fun-tastic?" he bitches.

Roxanne smiles again, remembering last night. It's really too nice a morning to let Hal Stewart ruin it for her, she decides. She loses herself to pleasant daydreams as Hal drives them to work. Her cameraman grumbles beside her the whole way, but she's not listening.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Megamind is sitting at a worktable fiddling with a small wristwatch with a set of jeweler's tools. A lighted magnifying glass is mounted to the table on a swing-arm and Megamind is concentrating on some miniscule detail, a tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth as he works. Minion approaches and watches his boss for a minute. The watch is similar in design to his disguise generator watch, but it's smaller and more feminine. Megamind can be an artist when he tries to be and this watch is beautiful.

"Sir?" Minion says from just behind his friend's chair.

"GAH!" exclaims the blue man, jumping in the air and scattering tools everywhere. He knocks the swing-arm and it pivots away from him and then back in a full circle to whack him on the forehead. "Ow! My giant blue head!" he shouts, then turns to glare at his friend.

"Sorry," says the fish, stooping to retrieve the fallen tools.

Megamind rubs his injured head and re-arranges the tools in their tray. He replaces the ones Minion hands him as well. "What is it, Minion?" he asks, his irritation gone as quickly as it came.

"Is that for Miss Ritchi?" the fish asks.

"Yes," he answers, "I thought a disguise generator for her would be useful. Then we can both go out in public without being recognized."

"That's a good idea, Sir," compliments Minion.

Megamind grunts distractedly, already having returned to his work.

"Um, sir. How did your date go last night?" Minion asks. He's concerned because he noticed there were no pillows or blankets on the couch in the morning and Megamind rarely picks up after himself. If he'd slept on the couch, the bedding would most likely still be there when Minion came in to straighten up. If Megamind hadn't slept on the couch, there was only one other place he would have been likely to have slept.

Megamind sets his tools down and leans back in his chair with a happy smile on his face. "It was _fantastic_."

"Sir, I know you wanted to, but did you actually… _mate_ with her?"

The blue man's grin widens, "Yes, I did."

That's what Minion was afraid of. "Sir, did you… take precautions."

Megamind's eyes widen slightly and his smile falls a bit, "What do you mean, Minion?"

"I mean contraceptives. Did you use any?" Minion knew _he_ had not purchased any condoms or other contraceptives and, if their departure from Roxanne's apartment was as rushed as it sounded like, he didn't think they'd have thought to bring any from her place. He also doubted that Megamind had bought any himself. This left the fish with only one conclusion.

Now the blue man looks nervous. His eyes are darting around. "Er…"

"You didn't! Sir! This is bad. This is _very_ bad. What if she conceives?"

"Well, what if she does?" he asks defensively, "Would that be so awful?"

"It's too soon, sir. You've only been together for a few days!" Minion's voice is high and girly in its panic.

"And we've known each other for years!" Megamind argues.

"This is the most irresponsible thing you've ever done!" Minion accuses.

"Oh, I've done plenty more irresponsible things. Do you remember the MegaTermites I released under city hall that decided the overpass tasted better? Or the mini nuclear reactor prototype that irradiated a quarter mile on the west side of town? Or the RoboCattle that stampeded across half of Metrocity before Metro Man managed to round them up? I've done plenty of more irresponsible things than_ this_."

"But not to Miss Ritchi."

Minion has a point and Megamind struggles to refute it. Finally he says, "Don't be such a worry-fish, Minion. Everything will be fine," he turns back to his work, trying to ignore his friend's disapproval.

"If you say so, sir," answers the fish, knowing that Megamind is wrong, knows he's wrong, and will never admit he's wrong. He turns to leave his master to his work, knowing nothing he can say can change anything anyway. It's already done. If she's pregnant, they'll find out in a few weeks. Arguing about it won't help.

Once the fish leaves, Megamind leans back in his chair with a sigh. The truth is that he _had_ thought of contraceptives but only after he'd woken up with her in his arms in the middle of the night. He'd had a moment of panic similar to Minion's before he realized that he _liked_ the idea of her carrying his child. He hopes she does conceive.

0o0o0o0o0o0

When Roxanne approaches her cubicle, she finds she has a visitor. A portly man is sitting in her second chair. He's balding with a mustache and is wearing a badly-fitted tan suit. From the angle he's sitting at, she spots a strap over his white shirt under his jacket. A shoulder holster, she thinks. Everything about him screams police detective. _Crap_, she thinks.

She pastes a polite news-reporter smile onto her face and walks up to him, doing her best not to betray her nervousness. _Remember_, she tells herself, _say nothing without council_.

He stands as he notices her. "Miss Roxanne Ritchi?" he asks.

"That's me," she confirms cheerfully.

"Hello, my name is Detective Peter Bell. I was wondering if you could talk to me about an incident that occurred last night at your apartment." His voice is stern but polite.

"Am I in trouble for something, Detective?" she asks innocently.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," he assures her, "I'd just like to talk to you so we can figure out what happened."

"Uh-huh. I'm sorry, Detective. I can't help you." She sits in her desk chair and puts her purse in the filing drawer she normally locks it in when she's at work. She loops the springy keychain over her wrist and locks the drawer. If she gets arrested, she'd rather not have to explain her newly enhanced phone to anyone.

"Were you in the company of Megamind yesterday evening?" Detective Bell asks, undeterred by her refusal to help.

"If you're going to start questioning me about keeping _company_ with Megamind, I think I need to be in the presence of council." She's an investigative reporter and the police have leaned on her before to reveal her sources or defend her investigative practices. She knows how the game is played. It is their responsibility to provide proof and anything she says _will_ be used against her. In this case Detective Bell thinks she can lead them to Megamind and he's right. But she's not going to give them anything. She neither wants to incriminate herself nor betray her lover. Without a subpoena, she isn't required to tell him anything.

"I'm sure you don't have anything to hide, Miss Ritchi. We're not investigating _you_. We're just trying to apprehend a dangerous fugitive. We're concerned for your safety. We don't need to involve a lawyer."

"Am I under arrest?" she asks, unimpressed.

"No, of course not," the detective answers.

"Then would you please leave? I'm on the clock and I have work to do," she tells him as politely as possible.

"Of course, Miss Ritchi," the man says, frustration clear on his face, "If you think of something you'd like to share with me, please give me a call." He hands her a business card which she accepts and tosses on her desk. He stands there regarding her for a moment before turning and walking toward the elevator. He's now certain she's involved with Megamind somehow.

Andy Flemming, her neighbor in the next cubicle lets out a low whistle. "What did you _do_ this weekend, Roxanne?" he asks.

"Nothing that's any of _his_ business," she answers with a smile, "Or yours, Andy."

"Oh, come on!" he objects, "It's _got_ to be good if the police are sniffing around you."

"I didn't say it wasn't," she teases, "But I'm still not sharing."

"Ah! You are mean, Roxanne Ritchi. Come on, drop a fellow reporter a bone," he leans forward, conspiratorially, "You know the rumors are that you've been flying around the city with Megamind and that you're lovers."

She can't help grinning, but refuses to answer. "That _would_ be an exciting weekend, wouldn't it?" she asks rhetorically, "Don't you have work you're supposed to be doing?" she asks pointedly.

"Fine, fine," he says, returning to his own work, "But you know you can't keep a secret like that forever."

She doesn't want to keep it a secret. She wants to share it with everyone. She hopes someday she can.

**Review, please!**


	17. Pee on a Stick

**A short one this time. **

At work, her lack of kidnapping is noticed by everyone, along with her unusually good mood. Though she is careful about what she says, it becomes an open secret that Roxanne is dating Megamind and obviously 'getting some'. Reactions to this news range from anger and disgust to approval and curiosity. She loses count of the number of times she is asked exactly how _alien_ he is (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). She always just smiles a little and says nothing. That becomes her standard response to anyone asking anything about Megamind. A slight smile and no comment. Though the gossips never completely stop sniffing around for more information, her lack of candor means that they largely move on to new scandals (Such as how Keith was caught cheating on his wife with not one, but two girls from the secretarial pool _at the same time_ and how Audrey was filching from petty cash). She doesn't like keeping the secret, though. Not that she wants to share every detail of her life with Megamind, but normal women talk with each other about their husbands or boyfriends. She feels left out.

After that Sunday when the police visited Roxanne's apartment, she never sleeps there again. By the end of the first week, half her dresses are in Megamind's closet and a new, larger bureau has replaced the old one and has her things already filling two drawers on the empty right-hand side. Soon after, Megamind sets up a desk in his planning room (the quietest room in the evil lair aside from the little apartment) for her computer and files. He also gives her complete access to his computer systems, though the operating system is of his own devising and has a steep learning curve. She learns a few basics, and mostly leaves it alone and uses her own computer instead. She does appreciate the gesture, however. He also changes the security settings so all his creatures obey her as readily as they obey him and Minion.

By the time three weeks has passed, the evil lair is her home more than her apartment ever had been. She is even beginning to consider the idea of subletting the apartment for the duration of her lease. It is fairly clear that she won't need it anymore.

About this time she also notices that she's late. Not very late, and her cycle's always been a little bit erratic, so she tells herself that it could be nothing. But she isn't stupid. She knows that first night they hadn't used anything. They'd been good after that and used condoms every time, but she had been worried that it was already too late. And now she's three days late.

Minion and Megamind are in the lair making a lot of racket banging on something. The radio's turned up so loud she can still hear it faintly in the apartment bathroom where she's currently standing with the door both closed and locked. She opens the package she'd bought on the way home and reads the instructions. _Remove test from wrapper and remove plastic cap from test strip. Hold exposed strip in urine stream. Wait twenty (20) seconds for test results. Two (2) lines indicates a positive (+) result. One (1) line is a negative (-) result._ Her hands shake as she tears open the packaging and uncaps the test. She lowers her pants and sits on the toilet. She takes a deep breath, _Okay, you can do this_, she tells herself, _Just pee on the stick. _

Five minutes later, she's still staring at the test strip in disbelief. Not complete disbelief, because she knew this could happen. She even knew that it was likely once she'd realized she was late. Still. Two lines. She is pregnant. She takes a long, shuddering breath, tosses the test into the wastebasket, and cleans herself up.

She walks slowly out to the lair to where her blue lover is working happily. He glances up at her with the same grin he always wears when she enters the room, then he notices her somber expression and cocks his head to the side in concern. He takes three steps over to the radio and shuts it off. At the sudden silence, Minion glances over from the other side of the room and notices Miss Ritchi as well. Roxanne continues walking toward Megamind and stops in front of him. She nervously meets his confused green eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers.

She hears Minion gasp.

Megamind smiles with delight and steps forward to wrap his arms around her, squeezing her tight, "That's wonderful." He pulls back to look at her face. She looks scared, but she smiles nervously for him. She's shaking and she has tears in her eyes. "What's wrong?" he asks, "This is good news, isn't it?"

She wipes the tears from her eyes, "Yeah," she answers, "I just wasn't expecting it. It's too soon. I—I'm scared."

He hugs her again, "It'll be okay," he tells her, "I love you."

"I love you too," she says as she squeezes him back.

They stand that way for a long time. Megamind is smiling so widely that his face is liable to split in two. This is something so amazing that he'd never really thought it would happen. And now it has. _His_ Roxanne is carrying _his_ child. He is going to be a _father_. He can hardly contain his joy. When she seems to have calmed down, he says, "We should do something special. Anything. What would you like to do?"

She considers the question. Suddenly, she wants to feel the sun on her face and the wind against her skin. She feels cooped up in the lair. She wants to get out and see some grass and trees. "Let's go walk in the park," she suggests.

0o0o0o0o0

It turns out that no warrant had been issued for Roxanne's arrest that Sunday after all. However, the officers Megamind sent on a wild goose chase had returned to her apartment mad as hornets when they figured out that they'd been tricked. They had fully intended to arrest both of them if they could. Fortunately they'd calmed down by the time they got back to the station. Though she is not arrested in relation to that incident, she is visited by detectives twice more over the next three weeks. The police are frustrated with her. They know she is involved with Megamind, but can't prove it. They know that she no longer sleeps at her apartment and suspect she is living with him in his Evil Lair. They know that she knows significant details about his life and operations, but cannot get her to talk. They try to tail her, but always lose her before she leads them home. They try to find charges to arrest her on, but she is scrupulous about her conduct and her lawyers are on the ball. For three weeks they're stuck. There's nothing they can do.

Then their luck changes.

**Review. It makes me write more!**


	18. A Walk in the Park

**Well, I did get some mixed responses on that last chapter. Not everyone likes the idea of a pregnant Roxanne. If it's any consolation, I don't think she's too thrilled with it either. Anyhoo… here's more. **

It's a lovely day. Wispy clouds float high in the blue sky. A friendly breeze plays with people's hair. A kite flies above Metro City's Central Park. Within the park families are out playing, people race by on bicycles, couples walk together. One of the couples, a man in his mid-thirties and a woman slightly younger, walk hand in hand. They look like any other pair of random citizens of Metro City. No one gives them a second glance.

"How are we going to make this work?" she's asks him quietly as she stares off into the distance.

"I don't know," he answers with a sigh, "But we'll figure it out." He squeezes her hand and smiles confidently.

"How can you be so sure of that?" she asks, frowning up at him. His green eyes are higher than she's used to, the spatial distortion making him appear taller to match his disguise. This is the disguise he prefers when they're going out together incognito. It was a handsome disguise, but she prefers his own blue face.

"I'm the smartest man on the planet and you're the smartest person I know," he answers, "Together, we can do anything."

"You don't have the greatest record of success, you know," she points out pessimistically. He'd never actually won against the hero, so far as she ever heard. Unless getting the hero's girl counted as winning.

"Ah," he scoffs, "That's only because I was trying to defeat an invincible opponent," he argues, "And I didn't have you on _my_ side. _This_ is _completely_ different."

"Yeah. It'll be even harder," she insists. She hasn't been around babies much, but she knows taking care of one is exhausting. It's a good thing Megamind _doesn't_ need as much sleep as a human. She hopes the baby doesn't take after him in that respect. She wonders if he will have the patience for childcare.

"Doesn't matter," he tells her, "We'll find a way. It's our destiny, right?"

"Yeah, destiny," she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "We were destined to forget the condom."

"Maybe we were," he answers, "This isn't necessarily a bad thing, Roxanne. It's just a surprise."

"Big surprise."

"Very big surprise," he agrees, grinning, "But think about it. You've been pretty much living with me for the last three weeks. Most of your stuff's already moved in and I _know_ you were looking through your apartment lease the other day to see how subletting is handled. Your mother knows. Metro Man knows. Your best friend knows. Most of your office thinks they know. The tabloids keep gossiping about us and have run several pictures. It isn't really even that much of a secret anymore. Roxanne, we love each other, we trust each other, and I haven't stolen so much as a newspaper since we started sleeping together. We're already building a life together. This is just one more step."

"There's a difference between building a life and building a family."

"Yes, there is," he agrees, "Roxanne, do you regret being with me?" He is sure that before today she was happy being with him, but now?

"No," she smiles. She's very happy being with him. He's just as amazing and fun to be around as she thought he would be after that first hoverbike ride.

"Does it bother you that it's _my_ child?" Although they'd talked about having children when she'd read his palm and a few times since, that had always been flirtatious and flippant. He isn't entirely sure she _really_ wants to have a half-alien child. "He or she is only half human."

"No, of course not! That doesn't bother me at all," she insists.

"Then it's just the timing?" He can understand that objection. Despite his joy at the news, he knows she and Minion are right that it's too soon. It will make things more difficult.

"That," she agrees, "And a baby is permanent. Just living together, if it doesn't work, I just move my stuff back out again and you tell the brainbots stop obeying my orders. Maybe even move to a new lair if you really don't trust me anymore. It would be hard and painful, but we'd both get over it and move on eventually." Megamind had his doubts whether he'd ever be able to move on eventually, but he doesn't interrupt her. "But a baby… There's no going back from that."

"Do you…" he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing, "Do you want an abortion." Though he didn't really object in the abstract to the practice, to think of his own offspring being aborted was abhorrent to him. He knew it was her choice, but he hoped it was not a choice she would make.

"No!" she objects. He breathes a sigh of relief. "It's just… This makes things serious. We're not just dating or living together. We're starting a family. That's big and it's scary and I don't know how I'll do it. What if I'm a lousy mother?"

"You? A lousy mother?" he laughs. _That's what's bothering her?_ he thinks. "I'm the one with a prison sentence here! You'll be amazing, Roxanne." He pulls her to a stop and takes both her hands in his. "This child is a gift. It's something I never would have believed could happen. That I'd be a father? With my big bald head and blue skin?" he shakes his head, which does not appear big, bald, or blue at the moment, "What woman would want me? But you do, and it's amazing. I'm in awe that you let me touch you at all, much less, well..." he chuckles and cocks an eyebrow at her, "Impregnate you. It's like everything I've ever wanted my entire life is coming true now."

"I thought all you ever wanted was to be Overlord of Metro City," she observes wryly.

"It seemed more attainable than this," he answers, "But this is six times better." He pulls her toward him and hugs her tight.

She can't help smiling at his enthusiasm. It really is infectious. "You really think we can do this?" she asks, pulling away from him enough to watch his face.

"People do it all the time. All over the galaxy, apparently," he shrugs, "We'll manage."

"Well, I guess it's too late for second thoughts now," she turns hip-to-hip with him, each of them wrapping an arm around the other. They resume their walk.

"That's the spirit," he bumps her hip playfully and grins at her.

"Are you hoping for a girl or a boy?" she asks.

"It doesn't matter to me," he says, "You?"

"Either one would be fine, but…" she pulls him closer to her side, "I hope it's blue."

"Really?" He's surprised. He'd thought she'd want their child to look more like her. More human.

"Mm-hmm. I love that you're blue."

They walk in contented silence for a few minutes. Then they hear a childish tune playing in the distance.

"The ice cream man!" exclaims Roxanne, "Let's get ice cream."

"A little early for food cravings, isn't it?" he asks.

"Oh, hush, Spaceman. Come on…" she takes his hand and drags him towards a panel van with a sliding window and pictures of twenty types of novelty ice cream painted on the side. A dozen children of various ages are crowded around the van waiting their turn with dollar bills clenched in their fists. Several parents hover around the edge of the crowd watching their offspring. Roxanne and Megamind stand at the back of the line trying to decide what they want. She's standing in front of him with her back to his chest and he has his arms wrapped around her waist. Because of their disguises, no one suspects they are anything other than an ordinary couple.

As they wait, they hear childish laughter and a shriek of, "You can't get me!" just before a child in a soaking wet T-shirt runs around the ice cream truck and circles the crowd, clearly using it as a human shield from his opponent who rounds the truck a moment later armed with a fully loaded Super Soaker water gun. The second boy pumps his weapon and aims at the first boy as he dodges behind the crowd. Unfortunately for Roxanne and Megamind, the juvenile attacker has no qualms about catching innocent bystanders in the crossfire.

Roxanne gasps as the cold water hits her across the stomach, soaking her shirt, arm, and both disguise generators. The watches spark and fizzle as the disguises flicker and vanish, leaving a surprised and fully recognizable Megamind and Roxanne Ritchi standing together, frozen in their embrace.

A stunned silence falls over the park as everyone stares at the couple. The adults at the edges begin to look angry. They're scared for their children and outraged that Megamind would show up here of all places. Megamind isn't wearing his normal supervillain costume, which confuses the citizens. Though tight-fitting and black, his jeans and button-down shirt make him look far less intimidating than the crowd is used to. Two men, fathers of some of the children in line, nod to each other and begin pacing slowly toward Megamind, figuring they can take him. They're both around 250 pounds and not all fat either. But Megamind is armed. "Get back," he growls with his de-gun in his hand. No one needs any further encouragement and the crowd scatters in all directions. The ice cream man slams his door shut and screeches off before the villain can decide to carjack his ice cream truck.

"You shouldn't have done that," Roxanne tells him, guiding his arm down until he reluctantly holsters his weapon.

He sighs. "Those men were going to try to take me down. I could probably beat them, but not if more of the crowd joined in. Mobs are dangerous."

"You could beat two men that size?" she asks, surprised.

"My dear, I grew up in prison. I know how to fight," he explains, "Just because Metro Man can beat the crap out of me anytime he wants doesn't mean that most humans can." He looks around them and pulls her by the hand into a wooded area nearby where they can hide. They enter the secluded brush and duck out of sight. They remove their watches and frantically attempt to dry them, but the water's managed to get inside the casings. Without opening them up, they won't be able to dry them and they don't have the tools to do that here.

"When we get back to the lair, you're waterproofing these things," insists Roxanne.

"Yes. That would be good," he agrees wholeheartedly.

"How are we going to get back to the car?" she asks. They were almost a mile from the invisible car now, having parked it near the park entrance and walked this far along the jogging trails criss-crossing the area. It would be easy enough to get back to the car with working disguises, but not as themselves. The sun wouldn't set for two hours, so waiting until dark wasn't an option. They could just make a break for it and dehydrate anyone that pursues them, but that would cause more problems than it would solve.

"I don't think we're going to," he answers. He is looking back behind them through the bushes. He spots several police cars with lights flashing pull into the nearby parking lot, "I think I'm going back to prison."

In fact, they'd had the poor luck to have their malfunction observed by a bike cop standing by a nearby picnic shelter. He'd immediately called in the incident. MCPD had been on alert, expecting a new evil plot any day now, and responded immediately. Their response time is impressive, partially helped by the location of a nearby donut shop on the edge of the park.

"What do we do?" she asks, glancing frantically around for an escape route. Although their shelter provides visual cover, it is in the middle of open ground on all sides. She can already see police cruisers pulling in on the other side of the little woods as well. They are surrounded.

"Well," he considers fighting, but can't stand the idea of risking some idiot cop responding with gunshots. He didn't want to put Roxanne in any danger, especially in her current condition. She is doubly precious to him now. "I think we give ourselves up."

"And I didn't even get my ice cream," she complains.

Megamind chuckles, "Okay, hands up. No sudden moves. Don't scare them or they'll shoot," he instructs her. "They probably think you're my evil queen, so they'll assume you're as dangerous as I am. Try to look harmless."

She nods in agreement. They both take deep breaths and join hands. They walk slowly from the woods and raise their hands as they come into the open.

"Keep your hands where we can see them," instructs the nearest officer, whose gun was trained on Megamind along with seven others.

"Yes. I know how this works," answers Megamind, his voice cold. Roxanne bites her lip and nervously glances from Megamind to the police. One of the officers approaches on her side and pulls her away from Megamind. At gunpoint, she's walked to the nearest squad car and told to place her hands on the hood and spread her legs. The officer frisks her and finds nothing dangerous hidden on her. She's asked to place her hands behind her back and she complies. The cuffs are snapped onto her wrist and she's helped into the back of the car. From there she watches Megamind's much rougher arrest.

Although he offered them no resistance, they had already knocked him to his knees and ordered him to lay on the ground. As she watches, they remove his de-gun and frisk him thoroughly. Megamind is known for hiding small surprises on his person and the police aren't taking any chances. Once they are confident they've disarmed him, they yank his arms behind him and snap the cuffs around his wrists, closing them too tightly so they bite into his skin. Then they jerk him to his feet, causing him to stumble and the police have to catch him to keep him from falling on his face. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…." He tunes out the familiar mirandarization. He isn't even watching them but has his eyes on his Roxanne instead.

They lead him to another squad car and push him inside. The couple watch each other through the glass of their respective vehicles. Just as the car holding Roxanne begins to move, Megamind smiles at her. He lifts one hand to place his index finger to his lips, gesturing her to be quiet. The handcuff bracelet is still attached to his wrist, but the chain is dangling from it, unattached to the other half. He returns his hands to behind his back before anyone except Roxanne can see.

Roxanne is driven to the jail at the Metro City Courthouse. The police will attempt to deliver Megamind to the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Roxanne is pretty sure she'll be in her cell longer than he will.

**Review. Do you think Megs will bust her out? How long will she have to sit there? What will she be charged with? **


	19. Jail

**Okay, I did look up this stuff, so it is more-or-less what happens when one gets arrested. However, I have no experience with the criminal justice system, so I'm just working from an afternoon's internet research. Please don't be too harsh with the stuff I've inevitably gotten wrong. If it's wrong, then let's suspend disbelief and pretend that's how it works in the Megaverse, okay? Thanks! **

As the police drive Roxanne away from the park, tears well in her eyes. _Stupid hormones_, she thinks angrily. She never cries, but right now she can't help it. She can't even wipe the tears away, since her hands are cuffed behind her. Being pregnant sucks.

"What's the matter?" the skinny officer in the front passenger seat asks her. He has light brown hair that's thinning on top and a distinctly piggy nose, "Can't stand to see your _boyfriend_ go back where he belongs?"

"He'll be out soon enough," she answers. She finds herself proud of his skills as an escape artist and defying the officers by pointing it out makes her feel a little better, but it doesn't help her situation. She's still frustrated because she knows she doesn't dare let him break her out. He could do it easily, but it would immediately ruin her record and make her a fugitive as well. When you have 76 life sentences, a few more years means nothing. But her record is clean and she wants to keep it that way. That means staying in custody until she's legally released.

She forces back her tears of frustration, determined not to appear weaker than she already has. She wishes she were back home at the evil lair. Of all the days for this to happen. More than anything she wants to have Megamind's arms wrapped around her and his voice in her ear assuring her that everything will be fine. It isn't what a strong, independent woman _should_ want, but handcuffed in the back of a squad car with the first of her pregnancy hormones kicking in, that's exactly what she does want. She knows she won't have any contact with him at all until after her arraignment, which won't occur today. It's after hours already. She will be spending the night alone in jail.

"Why do you think that? Did he tell you his escape plans? Maybe if you'd share what you know, the judge will go easier on you," the other officer suggests in a friendly voice. He is larger and muscular with his head shaved bald and a neatly trimmed black mustache on his upper lip.

She scoffs, "You have no authority to offer me a deal." She knows the police are allowed to outright lie to people to get the information they want. Anything she says will be used against her. "I don't know how he'll escape, but he will. He _always_ escapes. And if you're going to start questioning me, I want my lawyer present."

"But you admit he's your boyfriend?" the first officer continues, determined to get _something_ from her and ignoring her request for counsel.

She shrugs, "If he were, that wouldn't be illegal." There's really no point in denying that she's seeing him, but she isn't willing to confirm it either. They'll only try to twist it into something sordid. Of course, to them the truth that she is actually sleeping with the criminal space alien probably _would_ seem immoral and degrading on its own. If they knew she's also carrying his child, they'd be outright disgusted. Not that it matters what they think, of course, but she really doesn't want to hear their opinions at all. It's none of their business.

A dispatcher on the police radio says, "All available units to 87th and Bay Street. Captive has escaped custody. All units keep a lookout for Megamind. He is armed and dangerous."

Roxanne can't help grinning proudly. _That's_ her Spaceman, "Told ya," she gloats.

"You shouldn't be so smug," the thin officer answers, "We've still got _you_."

She shrugs. "Yeah, I'm sure that's a huge consolation. You're outclassed by Megamind, so you pat yourselves on the back for capturing me instead. I'm not worried," she smiles despite the tears drying on her cheeks, "I won't be locked up for long."

"Oh, is your _boyfriend_ going to break you out too?" he suggests.

"Nobody will be breaking me out," once again she sidesteps the implication that Megamind is her boyfriend, "But I have a good lawyer and I happen to be innocent."

"Oh, I doubt that. People that keep company with supervillains tend to get dragged down with them. I'm sure your hands aren't clean," the driver observes.

She blows her bangs out of her face, "Prove it," she challenges both of them. She's reasonably certain that they don't have any proof of anything and are just harassing her because they can't touch Megamind. She is disappointed to learn the MCPD would be so petty.

The car pulls up to the station and the officers lead her inside to be booked. They read her her rights and take her watch and earrings for safekeeping. She hopes they don't realize the watch is more than it seems. At least it's shorted out, so they won't accidentally turn it on. They take her fingerprints and her mug shot. She calls her lawyer and he promises her he'll be there for the arraignment tomorrow. She's searched again and then led into the jail where she's put into a cell already occupied by another woman. The painfully skinny blond is alternating between sitting on the bottom bunk fidgeting and pacing back and forth across the cell. Meth addict, thinks Roxanne. As the cell door clangs shut behind her, she predicts that this is going to be a long night.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The night is equally long for Megamind. Though he'd made his escape far more quickly than usual, the normal thrill wasn't there. He knows that he doesn't dare break Roxanne out, though there is nothing he'd rather do. He paces the lair most of the night, snarling at any brainbot that gets too close to him and unable to concentrate well enough to work on anything. Minion gives up trying to talk to him at all around midnight and simply powers down for the night, instructing one of the bots to wake him if Megamind leaves the lair.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The next morning, Craig Roberts visits Roxanne. The 53-year-old attorney has worked for Roxanne since the first time the police took an interest in one of her anonymous sources 4 years ago. KMCP had their own lawyers to represent their employees, but she'd wanted someone to represent her interests independently from the station. Mr. Roberts had been recommended to her by Wayne Scott, and he's proved his worth on several occasions.

To say that recent developments have surprised Mr. Roberts would be an understatement. He knows Miss Ritchi as a friend of Metro Man and the Scott family. With her being such good friends with the hero, he was shocked when he'd first learned that she'd involved herself with the villain. That isn't the way things are supposed to work. She'd assured him that Wayne Scott knew and was, if not supportive, at least not hostile to the relationship. Despite that, the lawyer is still concerned for Miss Ritchi. Dating a fugitive felon, especially one with as extensive a record as Megamind has, is clearly not a good idea. But his job is to give legal counsel, not to make judgments. The relationship is not, in and of itself, illegal.

"Good morning, Miss Ritchi," greets the lawyer, setting both his briefcase and a hanger holding one of Roxanne's dresses on the table.

"Good morning, Mr. Roberts," she answers. She is pleased that he'd brought her a change of clothes. She'd been concerned he wouldn't have been able to get in contact with Megamind in time. She did not want to appear at the arraignment in the same clothing she'd worn to the park yesterday. Not only were they too casual for a court date, but they looked like they had been soaked with water and slept in. She is also pleased that Megamind had refrained from dressing her in his colors. The dress is white with a black stylized flower print on it. It is of a modest length and has a coordinating black jacket.

He also slides a black backpack across the floor, "Shoes and underwear and things," he explains.

"Thank you," she says, "How was he?"

"He wasn't happy," the lawyer answers. He'd met Megamind in an empty parking lot, as he'd been instructed. The blue man had stepped out of nowhere to exchange the clothing and a few words. He'd found the villain truly frightening, but not in the showy, theatrical way he always was when orchestrating his evil schemes in front of a crowd. Instead there was a sense of deliberately controlled rage that seemed far more dangerous than any of his supervillain bravado. The lawyer felt the man was fully capable of taking the jail apart piece-by-piece to get her out, and he would not hesitate to do so if he felt it was necessary.

The lawyer removes his suit coat and hangs it on the back of the chair on his side of the table. He loosens his tie a bit. They always keep these rooms either too warm or too cool. He suspects they do it on purpose. He sits, opens his briefcase, and removes a pad of paper and a pen. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She tells him the story of the mishap with the watch, the crowd's reaction, and how they'd given themselves up. Her attorney takes notes as she speaks, but doesn't interrupt. "I really don't think I did anything illegal. Megamind threatened the crowd with dehydration, but only because a couple of men were threatening him. And I had nothing to do with it."

The lawyer sighs, "That would count as assault with a deadly weapon, unless it is determined to be self-defense."

"But the gun was set to dehydrate," she argues, "It's almost always set to dehydrate."

"I doubt any of the witnesses noticed that," he points out, "Doesn't it also have a destroy setting?"

"Yes," she admits, "But he didn't even fire it."

"Yes," he agrees, "If he'd fired it and hit someone, it would be battery, not assault."

She blows out a frustrated breath.

"When you were soaked, how were you standing?"

"I was in front of him and he had his arms around my waist. Otherwise, the water gun probably would have only hit one of us." Her shirt had stayed wet half the night and had added to the discomfort of her night in jail.

"So, the two of you were hugging when you were revealed?" he absently taps his pen on his pad of paper.

"Yeah…" she answers slowly.

"And how many witnesses saw you?"

She thinks of the crowd around the ice cream truck. "Probably around twenty," she answers, "Plus a few back toward the picnic shelters."

"If more than twenty witnesses saw you in public cuddling with Megamind, I don't think you're going to be able to deny your relationship any longer. It's not illegal for you to date, but the fact that you were right there with him when he drew his gun on the crowd is going to complicate things. How much depends on what they think he was there to do. If they decide he was there to rob the truck or something, they'll charge you as an accomplice to that. I also wouldn't be surprised if you're charged with harboring or aiding and abetting a fugitive. I hope you haven't lied to the police about anything. Told them you weren't dating Megamind, for example?"

"No, I know better than that. I haven't told them anything that isn't true." She assures him, "This is really ridiculous. All we were going to do was get ice cream. He wasn't even going to steal it. He had cash."

"I know that, and you know that, but they probably think you were planning to rob the truck and take all those little kiddies hostage against Metro Man."

"That's ridiculous," she answers, "He's quit being a supervillain, Wayne's my friend, and those trucks don't carry enough cash to be worth robbing. If we _were_ going to turn into Bonnie and Clyde (which we aren't) we'd rob a bank, or an ATM, or even an armored truck. Not an ice cream truck. That's just too petty for Megamind."

Mr. Roberts offers no opinion on the pettiness of robbing an ice cream truck or the relative merits of robbing her other examples. Instead, he scribbles some notes on his pad and asks, "Where are the watches you were wearing?"

"The police took mine. I think Megamind still has his. I'm not sure if they know it's anything more than a watch, though."

"With all those witnesses, they'll probably figure it out. And they'll put it together with the Metro Man appearance in your apartment back at the beginning of the month. They're really going to be frightened by the idea that both of you have the ability to appear as anyone you choose. Can you imagine the potential for, not just criminal activity, but serious national security breaches? But I'm not as worried about the MCPD's reaction as I am about the FBI, NSA, and CIA. They're going to be extremely interested in those little toys."

She nods with a sinking sensation in her stomach, "They'd have good reason to. The disguises can pass fingerprint and voice recognition scans."

He stares at her speechless.

She shrugs, "He was a supervillain, what do you expect? But neither of us has used them for anything other than blending in with the crowd since we've been together." She looks nervous and leans forwards, elbows on the table. "There is one more thing you may need to know."

"What's that?" he asks, not sure he really wants to know.

"I'm pregnant," she confesses.

His eyes widened in surprise, "Congratulations," he says uncertainly. After the news about the disguise watches, he's relieved to be told something so comparatively ordinary. He asks, "When did this happen?" Didn't they only start dating a few weeks ago? She doesn't look like she's showing at all yet, so she can't be far along.

"About 3 weeks ago. I only found out yesterday," she tells him.

He is relieved. That means they have plenty of time before it becomes apparent. "Who knows?"

"Megamind, Minion, myself and you. Of course, with our luck someone probably noticed me buying the test at the drug store, but I tried to be discrete," she answers, "I'll probably tell my mother and Wayne once I'm out again. We'll wait before we share it with anyone else."

"It _is_ Megamind's child, I assume?"

"Yes," she smiles, remembering the night she conceived, "It's definitely his."

"Well, that shouldn't have any direct bearing on your case, but it's certainly interesting. Are you going to get married?"

"We haven't discussed it yet." They'd barely discussed the pregnancy and hadn't made any plans for their future beyond the idea that they'd figure it out somehow. She wonders if Megamind even cares about marriage or if he views it as a mere legal formality. She'd always assumed, as most women do when they're young, that she'd get married someday. This is not how she'd imagined it, however. It is true that she loves Megamind completely, but she still hates having her hand forced by her pregnancy.

"Well, if you do, contact me to draft the prenup and, for God's sake, keep your accounts completely separate from his. Otherwise you could be implicated in his crimes or have your assets seized if the courts seize his."

She nods in acknowledgement.

"Okay, I probably have more than enough information just for the arraignment. We can't really do much more until we learn the charges. I talked to your boss this morning. You're on unpaid administrative leave pending the resolution of your case." She isn't surprised by this. That's the station's standard policy whenever any of its employees faces serious legal charges. If the charges are dropped or she's found not guilty, her position will be reinstated. If she's convicted, the station has the option to fire her. He packs up his briefcase, puts his jacket back on, and nods politely to his client, "Good luck. I'll see you in court."

"Thanks," Roxanne answers as he leaves the room.

0o0o0o0o0o

The judge sits at her bench at the front of the room and looks down at the papers in front of her through a pair of reading glasses sitting low on her nose. "You are Roxanne Ritchi?" she asks, glancing over her glasses at the woman standing at the desk in front of her to the right.

"Yes, Your Honor," Roxanne answers.

The judge looks down at her papers to read the charges. "You're being charged with accessory to assault with a deadly weapon, accessory to impersonating an official protector, obstruction of justice, harboring a fugitive, and aiding and abetting a fugitive." She glances back to the defendant, "How do you plead?"

"Not Guilty," Roxanne answers.

"What does the prosecutor recommend for bail?" the judge continues. The judge, prosecutor, and Roxanne's attorney discuss bail amounts, flight risks, her salary, and various other factors Roxanne can't remember clearly later. In the end they set a bond of ten thousand dollars. She's informed of the terms of her bail and the date of her preliminary examination is set for ten days later. Roxanne thanks the judge and the arraignment is over. She is returned to her cell.

0o0o0o0o0

Two hours later her lawyer returns with an envelope containing ten thousand dollars in cash. He asks her to sign a receipt for the money before he hands it over. He accompanies her, with an officer acting as escort, to the city clerk. Roxanne presents the cash, fills out some paperwork, and is free on bond. Her earrings are returned to her, but not her watch. In its place is a notice that it has been taken as evidence. She takes her things and walks with her lawyer out the courthouse doors into the bright sunshine where she's assaulted by a mob of reporters all asking her questions and snapping pictures. She says nothing and her lawyer says the occasional "No comment" as they make their way through the crowd to her attorney's sedan.

As she climbs in and closes the door, she feels a sudden sense of relief. Mr. Roberts climbs in the driver's seat and drives her several miles away to an empty parking lot. This is the third time today that he's been here. Roxanne opens the door and exits the vehicle. She looks around in confusion before spotting the slight distortion of the invisible car. As she approaches, the window rolls down on the passenger side to reveal her beloved's blue face. He smiles, "Well, hello, beautiful. Need a lift?"

She opens the door and hurries in, spurred on by the glimpse of flashing lights she catches from the corner of her eye. Megamind floors it as soon as she's in. She pulls the door closed as they screech out of the parking lot. They bounce over the curb, leaving sparks in their wake. Ten police cruisers laying in wait after following the sedan from the courthouse all converge on the lot seconds too late to capture the fugitive they are after.

**Review, please. **

**Sorry for making the cops so mean. I have noting against the police and even have a brother-in-law that's a sheriff's deputy. But for this story to work, the cops have to be the antagonists. I don't think MCPD is all that competent, really. They were shooting into the air at the Metro Man museum and they seem absolutely scared to death of Megamind. Of course, he is actually an extremely formidable person, so maybe that's reasonable. He's categorized as a super, even though he has no inherent powers of his own. Really, they're probably annoyed that Metro Man isn't taking care of Megamind himself. Isn't that the job of the city's protector, after all? **

**I wonder if Metro Man is going to get off his butt and pick a side. Maybe the newspaper should weigh in on this in the next chapter. I'm sure they have an opinion on the hero. **


	20. Ham Sandwich

**Short one. But, hey. Two in one day, so that's good, right? **

It is a warm day with bright sunshine and a friendly breeze. A perfect day to defy gravity and float through the air over the shining municipality of Metro City. Metro Man, Protector of Metro City, suns himself in mid-air and stretches as he watches his city from a mile above. He closes his eyes and listens to the citizens, skimming across the normal, mundane conversations searching for signs of trouble. Eventually he concludes that he's bored. He's been bored a lot lately. Most people don't understand that there's a lot of hurry-up-and-wait involved in the hero business. Hours sometimes pass where no one needs help, but as soon as you sit down to practice your guitar or put a lyric down on paper suddenly everyone needs rescuing. It's really irritating work in that way. But at least his dedication is appreciated by the fawning masses. At least it usually is.

Metro Man has rescued 37 helpless citizens and put 23 dangerous criminals behind bars this week alone and it's only Wednesday. That should be an impressive figure. But all the news media seems to be focusing on is that Megamind is still free and gallivanting around the city with the hero's girlfriend. Of course, she's never really been Metro Man's girlfriend at all, but try to tell that to the media. Everyone is in love with the idea of the pretty star reporter and the gleaming hero. Since the two were friends anyway, they let people believe what they wanted to and it was fine. It actually solved a few problems for Metro Man who was no longer plagued by his mother's matchmaking or the throngs of ravening fangirls that used to chase him. Roxanne seemed to get some career benefit from the frequent Metro Man exclusives that their supposed relationship netted her, but did complain that no man would glance at her twice once they knew who she was. She'd been complaining about that a lot lately. Every man in the city who might be interested in her was too afraid that Metro Man would beat the crap out of him to risk taking her out. Every man in the city but one, anyway.

But that was the one man Metro Man had been sure she'd never consider. Really, why would Roxanne be interested in a man who thought a fun evening included ropes, evil devices, and possibly handcuffs? It didn't make any sense, but that's who she chose.

He warned her that the villain would ruin her and where is she now? In jail. Of course.

He'd been across town rescuing citizens trapped under a collapsed bridge when it had happened, or else he might have been able to help. What he'd heard later had all been second-hand, but it sounded like they'd been going to rob an ice cream truck, of all things, and take some children hostage. But their plan had been foiled by a brave child with a watergun who'd somehow disabled their evil devices which were foolishly not waterproof. They'd apparently shot recklessly into the terrified crowd and then run into the woods to hide, only to be surrounded by quick-responding police and arrested. Megamind had made his typical escape even faster than usual, but he had left Roxanne to sit in jail all night. Or that's what people were saying.

Something about the story doesn't seem right to the hero, though. It seems out of character for both of them. Although Megamind isn't above a little armed robbery, he typically chooses more lucrative targets than ice cream trucks. And although Roxanne would probably overlook Megamind breaking the law to escape from prison and stay out, he doesn't believe that she'd condone robbery and certainly not taking children hostage. What he really needs to do is talk to Roxanne and find out first-hand what happened.

Roxanne will probably be out of jail by the end of the day. He decides he'll call her then and arrange a meeting. Besides, he hasn't spoken to her for weeks. He misses her. It will be good to catch up.

That decided, Metro Man feels better. He flies back home to his underground fortress of solitude to make himself a ham sandwich. Just as he starts spreading mayo on his bread, he hears a distant scream and a call of, "Help! Metro Man, save me!" _Every single time_, he thinks as he puts down his knife and races out of his home at super speed.

**As always, please review. **

**For those of you not familiar with the US criminal justice system (there were some confused reviewers, so here's a brief explanation):**

**An arraignment is where you go before the judge for the first time and your charges are formally read to you, your bail is arranged, and your next court date set. This is normally supposed to occur within 24 to 48 hours of your arrest. **

**Bail or Bond refers to money you can pay to get out of jail now instead of having to wait in jail until your trial. It's like collateral towards guaranteeing that you'll actually show up for your court dates. If you don't, you forfeit the bail money and you'll go back to jail until your case is settled. **

**The preliminary examination is a pre-trial hearing where the judge looks at the evidence to determine if there's enough to bother taking it to trial at all. **

**Prison and jail are not the same things. A jail is run by the city or county and is for recently arrested people, people who are awaiting trial who haven't made bail, and convicts with relatively short sentences. There are fewer amenities in a jail because it's for shorter-term prisoners. Prison's for convicts who committed more serious crimes with longer sentences. Felons. Prisoners in prison will live there for years. Sometimes for the rest of their lives, depending on their sentence. Prisons are run by the states or the federal government. So, it's odd that the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted has the name Metro City on it, since it would not be run by the city. But perhaps it's an indication of where it's located rather than who runs it. I dunno. **

**They tried to take Megamind back to the prison. Roxanne went to jail. **

**Also, suspects get to wear their own clothes. Convicts typically have to wear jail uniforms. **

**Don't shoot me if I've explained something wrong, here. But this should be more-or-less how it works. I did do my research and this is how I understood it. I've never been to jail, so I don't actually know first-hand. **


	21. Welcome Home

**Okay, the chapter is taking forever to write, so I cut out this first scene and decided to post it so you all get **_**something**_**. So, it's short, but there's implied sex. So, enjoy. **

Megamind's invisible car passes through the secret entrance to his evil lair and shimmers into visibility. It parks in its spot next to the hoverbike and both doors open. Out steps Megamind and Roxanne; laughing and in mid-conversation.

"The nerve of them, ambushing us like that!" she rants.

"I wish I could have seen the looks on their faces!" laughs Megamind.

As Roxanne has become used to, a swarm of happy brainbots surround her moments after she emerges from the car. They jostle each other for her attention and she coos and strokes them in the same way Megamind typically does. Oddly, this time they do not surround Megamind as well and she wonders why. "What's with you guys?" she asks them, "Don't like Daddy today?" The bots bowg nervously, but keep their distance from Daddy, one of them snaps at him. Megamind looks sheepish.

"He scared them yesterday," answers Minion as he walks toward them, "He wasn't much fun to be around while you were gone." The fish glares at Megamind briefly before turning to Roxanne with a toothy grin, "I'm glad you're home, Miss Ritchi."

"Me too, Minion," she answers, shooing the floating cyborgs away.

"I'm making your favorite: 5-layer Cincinatti chili."

"Oh, you don't have to do that!" she protests. Made properly, the dish can take a whole day to make. Minion's recipe isn't _that_ traditional, but still takes two hours. She thinks it's a lot of trouble to go to just for her. Especially since Megamind doesn't like it.

"Nonsense! Getting out of jail is a cause for celebration. I always make something special for Sir whenever he breaks out of prison, unless it's straight to the next evil plan, of course," the fish explains, "It's a tradition."

She smiles, "Thank you, Minion." She reaches up to the dome of his suit and pats it affectionately, "You're such a sweet fish."

If a fish could blush, he would. Instead he smiles and turns away from her shyly. "It's nothing, Miss Ritchi. Besides," he says, remembering her news from the day before, "You're family now."

She feels arms snake around her waist. "When will dinner be ready?" Megamind asks his friend while embracing his mate.

"In about an hour, Sir," the fish answers, "Actually, I should go back and tend the pot. I just wanted to welcome you back, Miss Ritchi." He is already walking his robot gorilla body toward the kitchen, his fish body turned backwards towards them as he talks. Minion suspects that they'll want to spend some time alone now and, although he _is_ happy for them, he doesn't really need to witness them pawing at each other the way they tend to.

Megamind smiles, happy to have some time alone with her before dinner. "Perfect." He leans down and kisses Roxanne softly on the back of the neck. His warm breath and goatee tickle her and she leans back against him with a happy sigh. This is what she'd wanted all last night. Just to be safe here with him wrapped around her.

His hands begin to wander; one traveling north, the other south. "What would you like to do while we wait?" he asks, his voice low and suggestive as his southernmost hand sneaks under the hem of her dress and up the inside of her thigh. She wonders if he's planning to take her right here in the main room of the lair. It would be a first for them and she's a bit nervous about giving the brainbots a show. His hand continues to glide up her thigh until it reaches her panties. She whimpers and shifts against him as he strokes her through the cloth. She presses her butt back against him and slides it wickedly downward, thoroughly enjoying the way he grinds against her in response.

She fully intends to find a sturdy workbench to brace herself against and then enjoy whatever he has planned, brainbots be damned. Maybe he still has that table he used to tie her to sometimes. Then she decides on something even better given that she's spent a night and most of a day in a jail cell. "I think I need a bath," she tells him, stepping away from him suddenly.

He stumbles a bit as she moves her gorgeous rear out of contact with him. Megamind is immediately disappointed. He groans in frustration and pulls himself back under control. _Oh well_, he tells himself firmly, _I can wait._

She watches his face fall with amusement. His emotions are so transparent. She grins at his reaction, "Megamind?" she asks.

"Yes?"

"Want to help me wash my back?" she suggests.

His face immediately lights up again and the villain follows her out of the cavernous room, eager to give her whatever 'help' she might desire.

**Feel free to mentally replace the chili with your own favorite dish that takes forever to make. Mine's Cincinnati Chili, but it really isn't significant to the plot. **


	22. Weird, Obsessive Alien

The next morning Roxanne hooks her laptop into Megamind's network to deal with her messages. Most of them are from people she doesn't know or barely knows. Others are disapproving ones from friends, relatives, and co-workers. There are two disturbing ones that _appear_ to be from research scientists asking if she'd share her observations on Megamind's physical attributes, specifically any notable differences between him and a human male. A surprising number of her co-workers seem interested in that particular topic as well, though in a far less clinical sense. Most of them are women. All of those messages go straight into her trash folder. She's left with only about a dozen emails, voice mails, and text messages that she feels the need to respond to. She carefully composes her responses based on what her attorney has advised her is safe to say. Everyone receives a variation of the standard story:

_Dear so-and-so:_

_Thanks for calling/texting/emailing me. It was nice to hear from you. Megamind and I have been seeing each other for a little while and we're very happy together. I know, it sounds unlikely, doesn't it? But it's true. We're trying to build a life together, but his being a fugitive makes it a challenge. That's why we've been trying to keep it private, but I suppose the secret's out now. ;) _

_I know you want to hear all about it and especially what happened Tuesday, but my lawyer won't let me say very much. I can say that all we were doing at the park was taking a walk and standing in line for ice cream. It's amazing something so innocent could land me in jail for a night, but that's what happened. _

_I'll tell you all about it after the court case is done with. Wish me luck, I think I may need it! :)_

_Sincerely,_

_Roxanne Ritchi_

After those messages are sent out, she has only her mother and one other to deal with.

"Megamind, could you come over her for a minute?" she calls across the room to where her blue boyfriend is busily sketching at a drafting table.

"Of course," he answers. He drags his chair over to her desk and sits next to her. She clicks her mouse to play the voice mail that had been recorded last night at 6:04 pm.

"Hi Roxy, it's me," says a voice familiar to both of them, "Listen, I was wondering if we could get together. I heard what happened yesterday but I don't think the story I heard sounds right. I just can't see either of you trying to rob an ice cream truck. I want to know what really happened. Maybe I can help? I mean, unless you really _did_ try to rob the truck. Then I really can't do anything… You didn't really rob an ice cream truck, did you? Also, I haven't seen you in weeks. I want to hear what's going on. It still seems so weird thinking of you actually living with Megamind. I hope the little guy's treating you alright… Oh! I think I finally figured out what to do with that 'See Through Lead' song I've been working on, but I wanted your opinion on the ending. I don't know, I think it might be too corny… Let me meet you for coffee or something like we usually do. I promise, I won't try to track you home or anything. You can even bring Megamind if you want to. Course, that would probably rule out our normal coffee shop, but we'll think of something… Just, give me a call, okay? I miss talking to you, Roxy. So… Uh… Yeah. Bye."

"What do you think?" she asks him.

"He writes songs about his superpowers?" he asks in disbelief.

"Mm-hmm. And about being a hero, rescuing helpless damsels, the futility of evil, and the fire dangers of laser vision. You have no idea," she giggles. "But he enjoys it, so I listen and try not to laugh. We usually meet for coffee—"

"Every Friday at two at the Bean and Bistro," he nterrupts, "My dear, you forget I had you under surveillance for almost 5 years," he says, "That weekly 'date' is one of the reasons I thought you were seeing him," he leans over to her and speaks low in her ear, "That's also why I liked to kidnap you on Friday afternoons." He moves his lips down to her neck and nuzzles at her, appreciating her scent and that way she squirms delightfully at his touch. He wonders if he can lure her back into bed.

She isn't ready to be distracted, though. She moves away and leans back into her own chair. "Do you think we should meet with him?" she asks. She doesn't even suggest meeting with Wayne without Megamind, even though it would be much simpler for her to go alone. She's not a fugitive and can go anywhere she pleases. Or, anywhere she pleases that doesn't involve leaving the state of Michigan, anyway. Being out on bond does come with some restrictions.

"Can we trust him?" Megamind asks skeptically, "He's not going to ambush us, is he?"

"I trust him almost as much as I trust you," she tells him honestly.

"But not quite," he smirks.

"No, not quite," she agrees, leaning over to peck him on the cheek and then back to her own chair. "But, if he tells me he'll behave himself, he will," she assures him. "Just like you," she teases.

"You have both of us wrapped around your little finger, don't you?" he asks, impressed to think that she has the two most powerful men in the city both more-or-less at her command. He wonders how many people realize that.

"You more than him," she answers honestly, "But he usually does what I ask. What do you think?"

Megamind shrugs, "It might be useful to have him on our side. He would be an excellent character witness for you if your case goes to trial."

"For both of us," she points out, "Half the things I'm charged with are really just helping you do something bad. If he can convince the jury that you've reformed, then that helps me out also."

"You think we should meet with him, don't you?"

She nods, "I don't see how it can hurt anything. The worst that could happen is he breaks his word and hauls you back to prison, but it's not like you'd _stay_ there. It might be worth the risk just to learn if we can trust him," she reasons, "I also want to tell him about the baby."

"Why?" he squeaks in alarm, "So he can beat me into a bloody smear on the ground?"

"He wouldn't dare," she insists confidently, "Besides, he'll find out eventually. Telling him now is the considerate thing to do. It gives him some warning and we can coordinate how we are going to handle things. The media's already going on about how I dumped him for you. Just think of the field day when they find out that you knocked me up too."

Megamind starts laughing, "I almost feel sorry for the guy. This is going to be so emba-arrassing for him," he snickers.

"Embarrassing for _him_?" she asks. Megamind gets the distinct feeling that he's just said something extremely stupid, "Since when is this about _him_? _I'm_ the one that's going to be walking around with my belly swelled up like a blimp! People are going to be whispering behind my back, calling me names. Saying I'm a slut or sick for having sex with you, calling me evil for even associating with you, questioning if I ever was your _un_willing victim at all. Claiming that I liked it when you tied me up."

"Didn't you?" Megamind asks, sure in retrospect that she had, at least some of the time. He knows she likes it now when he wears his spikes for her and brings out the ropes.

"That's not the point! My reputation is ruined, Megamind!" She glares at him with a much more dangerous expression than Megamind had ever been able to manage himself in all his years as a supervillain. It startles him to see it on her face and he thinks again what a spectacular evil queen she would have made, if only she had the affinity for evil.

He shakes himself out of his fantasy and processes what she has just said. He mentally smacks himself. He feels like an idiot for not thinking of this from her perspective. To him, this is a wonderful development. Having Roxanne pregnant with his child is something he'd never have thought possible. Well, technically, he knew it was _possible_. He had known he was capable of breeding with humans since he was fifteen and had sequenced his own DNA over a long weekend just for fun. That discovery had given the teenage Megamind some exciting fantasies for awhile. But the possibility of actually finding a human woman he cared for that would actually _allow_ him to breed with her, much less that it would be Roxanne, was so unrealistically improbable to his mind that he'd never seriously considered the idea. He is still getting used to it. He's so happy to have it happen that he's hardly thought how it could be a bad thing. Inconvenient? Yes. Difficult? Definitely. Unpopular? That is nothing new. But shameful? The thought had never crossed his mind until now. Of course, he had never been particularly concerned about propriety. Being a supervillian requires routinely committing acts that most people deem dishonorable. It had never particularly bothered him before, but he knows Roxanne views such things differently. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Roxanne," he assures her.

She runs her fingers through her hair and blows out an angry breath, "I know," she admits, "But I'm still unmarried and pregnant. That's not something to be proud of, Megamind."

He looks at her curiously for a moment as an idea flits through his large head. Not for the first time, but it had seemed far too soon before. It may still be too soon, but she _did_ bring up the subject. "Do you want to get married?" he asks her, trying very hard to sound casual.

She narrows her eyes and watches him suspiciously, "Do you?"

"Yes!" Like turning on a light switch, he's all excitement and enthusiasm. All efforts to remain calm are forgotten. He jumps off his chair and holds her shoulders, one in each hand, grinning manically into her eyes. "I would _love_ to marry you! Roxanne, you are the most fantastic woman I've ever met. And you chose me. Me! Not Metro Mahn. Not some normal human man who could give you a normal life. But me! I don't understand why. Probably you shouldn't have, but you _did_ and the proof is here," he lays his hand on her abdomen, "You are living in my home and carrying my child. I want to do the right thing, for once in my life, and take care of both of you. Of course I want to marry you, Roxanne! You're my mate and I want all of Metrocity to know it."

She is taken aback by this sudden passionate declaration and considers him with an amused smirk. "Your mate, am I?" she asks.

"Errr…" Did he say that? He mentally reviews his previous speech. Yes, he did. "Yes…" he admits warily, his enthusiasm visibly deflating.

"Now, that's an interesting word choice," she says in what Megamind thinks of as her nosy reporter voice which means she believes she'd caught him at something, "I would have expected you to say girlfriend or lover. But mate? That sounds _much_ more permanent. Care to explain that?"

He steps away from her and bites his lip nervously. "I'm an alien," he begins to explain.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," she says with amused sarcasm.

"Hmm," he responds. He turns away and paces the floor, gesturing as he speaks but not looking at her. "I'm not human. Mostly I'm the same. Different color, huge head, but not that different. But there's one thing I only figured out since we've been together," he stops and looks her in the eye nervously, "I think my species mates for life."

She looks back curiously, "Well, yeah? So do humans."

He shakes his head negatively and paces again, "No, they don't. Not often, anyway. Half of all marriages end in divorce and humans often engage in sexual relationships that never end in marriage at all, sometimes even while married to another. The best you can say is that _some_ humans mate for life and _most_ try to be serially monogamous. Even you had lovers before me."

"Only three," she objects, "And I intended to marry the last one. It's just…things didn't work out."

"I'm glad they didn't," he grins momentarily, feeling himself lucky that no other man had snapped her up before he had the chance. "But my point is, more often than not, humans do not mate for life. According to Minion, my people almost always did. He didn't know why, that was just the way they were. I guessed that it was cultural. I'm close enough to human that I really had no reason to think that my physical responses to choosing a mate would be all that different. Once you showed an interest in me, I expected things to proceed along the typical pattern for a human courtship," he pauses, rubbing his hands across his face, "I was wrong."

She snorts. "That figures," she teases, "Since when has _anything_ you've ever done been normal?"

He smiles, taking her teasing in the spirit it was intended, and returns to her side, leaning his forehead against hers. He reaches out to hold her hands and stares blankly at them as he continues, "When I first brought you here, I thought I was probably making a mistake in trusting you with the location of my lair. What if it was just some nosy reporter trick to learn all my secrets? But you needed somewhere safe to spend the night. So, I brought you here anyway, all the time thinking how inconvenient it was going to be to move lairs again when you turned on me." He hears her draw in a breath to protest that, but he plunges on before she can speak, "Afterwards, when I woke up next to you, that mistrust was gone like it never existed." He twines his fingers into hers, "Now I trust you like I've never trusted anyone other than Minion. I also feel very _possessive_, as if you belong to me on a very primitive level. I feel protective and devoted. I love you so intensely…" He closes his eyes, trying to decide where to go with this.

"When we mated that first time… I bound myself to you." He pauses, waiting for her reaction. When she doesn't say anything, he keeps going, "I didn't understand at first. I thought it was similar to what a human feels when he finds the woman he wants to marry. But, it wasn't. It was more than that." He sighs and releases one of her hands while turning the other over and opening her fingers. He traces the lines of her palm, brushing over the marriage line she'd showed him almost a month earlier.

"When we were arrested, I was fine at first. I escaped, hid until nightfall, got to the car, and drove home." He shrugs, "Easy, like always. But once I was back it really hit me that you wouldn't be coming home that night. On one level, I knew that you were safe, even if the jail isn't a pleasant place. I knew you'd be out soon and I just needed to wait. But I felt absolutely enraged that they'd _dared_ to take you away from me. They had no right because you were _mine_." He smiles and squeezes her hand, acknowledging that he knows how crazy that sounds. "I know that's not logical, but I was past reason. Then add to that the new fact that you were carrying my child? I think if we hadn't already discussed what you wanted me to do if you were arrested, if you hadn't made me _promise_, I wouldn't have been able to resist breaking you out. Even then, if not for Minion, I might have done it anyway." He scowls at the memory, his lowered brows obscuring the top half his eyes. When he continues, his voice is low and intense. More serious and dangerous than she'd ever heard it. "The idea of them locking you away from me was driving me insane. I think I would have swarmed the entire building with every last brainbot, brawnbot, and giant robot I have just to get you out and I don't want to think what I'd have done to anyone who got in my way."

Roxanne is reminded that she is in the company of the second most potentially dangerous men in the entire city, possibly the entire planet. And he is obsessed with her. She shivers at the realization.

He closes his eyes, calming himself. "I know that sounds irrational, especially when I knew that you'd be out on bail the next day. For a human, that would be insane. But it felt right to me. I don't think I'm crazy, Roxanne. I think it's the way my people were. I think that's why couples didn't split up. They were obsessed with each other." He looks up and meets her blue eyes with his brilliant green ones. He swallows nervously before saying, "I think you're stuck with me."

She'd waited patiently through his whole explanation before speaking. "First: thank you for not breaking me out. That would have ruined my record, lost me my job, and caused all sorts of other problems I can't even imagine off the top of my head. Second: When were you going to tell me this?"

He shrugs, "Soon. I only pieced it all together while you were gone. I really didn't mean for any of this to happen. How was I to know that I'd bond like this to the first woman I slept with?" he asks miserably, "I feel like I have no free will. I know I would have chosen you anyway, but I wish I'd made the choice rather than just having fallen into it. And you're caught in it as much as I am because I don't think I could let you go if I wanted to. If you left, I'd probably abduct you and hold you captive until you agreed to stay with me, or until Metro Mahn came and took you somewhere I couldn't find you. And then you'd have to spend the rest of your life hiding from me because I would _never stop_ looking for you."

The guilt in his eyes tears at her heart, "Well, I guess it's a good thing I wasn't planning to leave," she answers, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"Really, this hasn't scared you off yet? Finding out I'm even more of a weird, obsessive alien than either of us thought?"

"I don't know…" she says with a twinkle in her eye, "I already thought you were pretty weird. You did once turn three square miles of Lake Michigan into Lime Jello. You also have a decoupage setting on your gun. And you once attacked the city with a giant robot unicorn—"

"That was the Equestrinator!"

"It was a unicorn, you weirdo," she insists with a smirk, "I love you, no matter how weird you are. It makes you interesting. Besides, it kind of makes me feel powerful to think I've captured the infamous Megamind and, for once, he can't escape. No one's ever managed _that_ before. Although it would have been nice to have some warning that if I had sex with you I had to keep you."

"You and me both," he agrees wholeheartedly, "Would it have stopped you?"

"Probably not," she answers, grinning at the memory of that night, "Lack of condoms certainly didn't stop me, and I _knew_ the risk that was."

"Wait, you actually thought of the condoms?" he asks in disbelief, "Why didn't you stop me?"

She shrugs, "I thought it was probably early enough in my cycle to risk it and I _really_ didn't want you to stop. Do you have any idea how _long_ it had been since I'd last _had_ sex? I wasn't thinking as clearly as I should have been," she explains. She guesses she had been at least as horny as he had been.

"So, this is actually _your_ fault," he accuses, glad to have someone to blame for what he knew was really both their faults equally.

"My fault?" she exclaims, "It takes two, Megamind, and you're supposed to be the super genius here," she pokes him in the forehead with her finger to emphasize her point.

"Oh, like that's ever kept me from doing something stupid! I'm male, Roxanne," he argues, "I can't be expected to think when I'm about to get lad for the first time in my entire life—"

"It's 'laid', sweetie," she interrupts, "'Lad' would be… disturbing."

"Laid, then," he continues, "The point is I can't think clearly when your clothes start coming off."

"Okay, fine. It's my fault I'm pregnant," she concedes, "But it's your fault that the stupid caveman part of your brain's telling you we're married now."

He nods, "Agreed," He's pleased to share the blame instead of carrying it all himself, "What do we do now? Do you want to actually get married?" He hopes she does. It will mean she'll be less likely to ever leave him (though, being human, he knows that's no guarantee) and it will provide a more stable environment for their child.

Roxanne is quiet for a moment and Megamind waits nervously for her answer, wondering if he should have asked her on bended knee with a ring in his hand. She considers the question. Should they get married? It _was_ the logical next step. Between her pregnancy and Megamind's weird mating-bond, she doesn't really have many options, but she hates being rushed into it and deeply resents the circumstances. She's still uncertain if a life with Megamind is even practical. He's a fugitive and she will have to deal with that every day for the rest of her life. Can she handle that? She thinks ahead into her future and finds that she can't even imagine her life without him anymore, no matter what that might cost her. Especially with the baby on the way. There really is no choice for her to make. It's only a matter of accepting the inevitable.

"Yes," she answers seriously, "I think we should."

His green eyes open wide and an amazed smile spreads across his face, "When?" he asks her. He wonders if she wants to wait until after the baby's born or if she'd rather do it—

"The sooner the better, I think," she tells him, "Before I start to show. I'd like to get people used to the idea I'm married before we let them know I'm also pregnant. It'll look better that way." She is a television news reporter, and appearances are important, though she knows a marriage followed so quickly by a pregnancy won't really fool anyone.

He pulls her out of her chair, squeezing her tight against him. He thinks that things are just getting better and better. "Let's go tell Minion," he says before dragging her by the hand across the lair to where Minion is working on the laundry.

**Yeah, I figured I'd do a bonding. I like those and I did make him feel possessive starting as soon as he woke up from their first time and he was pretty feral when she was in jail, so there needs to be some explanation of that. Since he's very close to human in this AU (close enough to breed naturally) I decided not to make it too extreme or alien. Just very, very obsessive and triggered by mating the first time. **

**Review, please. **


	23. Calling Mom

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

_Rin—_

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Roxanne! I was wondering when you'd call. Tell me you've come to your senses and broke up with that horrible blue man."

"No, Mom. In fact, I have some news. We're getting married."

"But… You've only been together for a month… Oh, God! You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Mom. I am."

_Click._


	24. Lunch with Wayne

Roxanne steps through the door held open by her doorman and into the foyer of her apartment building. She is followed by a man a few years younger than her with messy dishwater-blonde hair and a garish orange and purple Metro U T-shirt with its distinctive loon mascot, which doesn't actually look anything like a loon. The mascot predates the first appearance of Metro Man in the city. The university is one of the few city institutions that hadn't adopted the hero and his colors as its own, though there are rumors that it is now considering it.

"Hello, Carlos," Roxanne greets the doorman.

"Good afternoon, Miss Ritchi," Carlos Lucero says, "I haven't seen you lately." Carlos is a Hispanic man in his late fifties who has worked as the daytime doorman in Roxanne's building since before she moved in and will likely continue working there until he retires. He enjoys his job. He knows all the tenants by name and believes he knows nearly everything important that goes on in their lives. For instance, with Miss Ritchi, he's heard the rumors of her involvement with the city's supervillain, knows the blue man has been spotted several times on her balcony, and knows she hasn't been spending the nights in her apartment for almost a month. He suspects she will not be a tenant in the building much longer. He worries about her and hopes she knows what she's doing. "They got another article about you in the paper today," he tells her, walking back to the desk behind the front counter to retrieve a copy of the day's paper, "Some idiot on the opinion page thinks you've been the mastermind behind Megamind's schemes for years."

The man beside her smirks and she laughs aloud, "Right, he's the one with the giant head, and yet _I'm_ the evil genius." She leans over the counter and looks at the article he is holding up. She scans it and rolls her eyes. "They're just guessing. They have no idea what's really going on," she pronounces.

"What _is_ going on with Megamind?" Carlos asks, "It's been at least a month since his last giant robot blew up in his face." The man next to Roxanne winces at this observation, but says nothing, "Everyone expected him to come up with something new weeks ago."

"You almost sound disappointed, Carlos," she says, still leaning on her elbows over the counter, "Do you actually _want_ Megamind to threaten the city again?"

"No! Of course not," Carlos objects, "But it hardly seems like Metro City without him showing up every week or two with some evil plan or other."

"There are better things to do than spend your whole life being a villain." She glances at her companion briefly. "Megamind decided to pursue other interests."

"What? You mean he's quit being a supervillain?" Carlos asks in surprise. _Can he do that?_ "Is he giving up on taking over the city?"

"Pretty much" she answers.

"Does Metro Man know?"

"Oh, I think he will pretty soon," she answers, "He's going to talk to him today."

"What's Metro Man going to do without Megamind to fight?" Carlos asks, having a hard time picturing one without the other. Although Megamind is not the only enemy Metro Man battles, he is by far the most consistent and showy.

"I don't know," she answers. She hadn't actually thought about what effect Megaminds retirement might have on the hero. She doesn't really care. "Fight other villains, I guess."

Her companion nods in agreement, "They'll start coming out once they realize they don't have a supervillain to compete with anymore. There will be a surge in crime and the Doom Syndicate will start taking over the west side of town," he predicts, "They've been trying to for awhile but… Megamind wouldn't let them. I'm sure it's nothing Metro Mahn can't handle, though."

She turns towards the younger man in astonishment, "Yu—Megamind was keeping the Doom Syndicate in check?" she asks, "That doesn't sound very evil."

"He had to defend his turf," the man explains with a shrug, leaning against the counter casually, "Can't be a Supervillain if you're not on top."

"Who's your friend, Miss Ritchi?" Carlos asks politely, "If you don't mind my asking."

She seems startled to remember that Carlos is still there, but she recovers quickly. She turns back to the older man. "Not at all. Carlos, I'd like you to meet Daniel Reese. He works in my office and he might be subletting my apartment. I'm going up to show him around."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that you'll be leaving us, Miss Ritchi," Carlos tells her. He's certain now that she really is Megamind's girlfriend. How else would she know so much inside information? She must be planning to move in with the villain (ex-villain?) soon and that's why she's subletting the apartment. He reminds himself that it isn't his place to pry into the resident's private lives, but that doesn't stop him from being both curious and worried. Before he forgets his place, he turns to the other man and says, "Mr. Reese, I hope you like the building. If you have any questions on your way out, don't hesitate to stop by. I'm here all day."

"Thank you Carlos." The man spares only a glace for the doorman and is instead looking around the foyer with a critical eye, all thoughts of supervillains and their habits apparently forgotten, "The building looks nice so far. I hope the unit itself lives up to it."

"Oh, it does," Roxanne assures him, suddenly intent on praising the virtues of her apartment to her perspective tenant, "The owner replaced all the appliances three years ago and it has a great view. You can see the whole city, all the way out to the bay. And the balcony's big enough for a good-sized patio set."

"Are pets allowed?" he asks.

"Yes, but there are restrictions. I'll have to look it up for you…" The pair continues to discuss details of the lease and features of the building as they wait for the elevator. Carlos turns his attention back to the newspaper. Now that he's sure she _is_ involved with Megamind, he's glad to hear Miss Ritchi will be moving out. Carlos likes her well enough, but he doesn't like the idea of having criminals in his building. Mr. Reese seems like a nice young man. Carlos hopes he likes the apartment.

Roxanne and Daniel Reese ride the elevator up in silence and don't meet any of her neighbors in the hallway. She unlocks her door and soon they're safe inside. Without saying a word, the man unlocks and opens the balcony doors. Several brainbot that have been waiting outside sail in and begin scanning the apartment. Megamind switches off his disguise as his pets do their work. They find several small microphones, but no cameras or other devices. He places the bugs in a small sound-proof box, where they can continue transmitting, but won't be able to hear anything they shouldn't.

"It should be safe now," he tells her.

She wraps her arms around him and gives him a quick peck on the lips, "What would I do without you?"

"Get in far less trouble, I think," he answers.

She laughs in agreement, "What? And miss all this?" she gestures at the brainbots, the sound-proof box, and her blue boyfriend, "My life would be downright dull."

There isn't much to eat in her kitchen after living at the evil lair for most of a month. If there is anything in the fridge, she's a little afraid to touch it knowing its age. She doesn't even look. She pulls out some dishes and sets the table. She rummages in the pantry and finds a few cans of soda. Unfortunately, being in the pantry, they're warm. She checks the freezer for ice, but finds nothing. "Where's a freeze-ray when you need one?" she mutters to herself.

Lack of ice would never be a problem at the lair. Megamind would just wander off into the storage section and come back ten minutes later with a gun or a spray can or box with a red button on top (he likes red buttons): something that would be capable of instantly solving the problem. She's constantly amazed by how he always seems to have some gadget on hand capable of solving whatever minor domestic challenge she has. Often it's overkill, and occasionally causes its own complications, but it always solves her original problem.

Searching the pantry, she also finds an unopened bag of chips and puts that on the table along with the soda and a glowing blue cube she fishes out of her purse.

"Zero trans fat, low-sodium, baked potato crisps?" Megamind asks, reading the bag with a look of disgust.

"If you don't like them, don't eat them," she answers, opening the bag and putting one of the crisps in her mouth. The crisp itself is fairly tasteless, but it has a generous amount of seasonings that make it taste reasonably barbequeish.

Fortified by her barbequeish, chip-like snack, she screws up some courage and looks into her refrigerator. "Oooo… pickles!" She pulls out a jar of kosher dill pickles and fishes one out happily. Standing with it still dripping into the jar, she takes a bite and closes her eyes in bliss at the crunchy, salty thing. When she opens her eyes again it's to find Megamind smiling at her in amusement. "What?" she asks, her mouth still half-full of pickle.

"Oh, nothing," he answers, still grinning. _Definitely pregnant,_ he thinks.

They hear a knock at the balcony door and turn to find Metro Man standing patiently outside. Megamind opens the door and lets his rival in without saying a word because he isn't quite sure what to say. What does one say when inviting one's lifetime enemy in for lunch?

The hero notices immediately that Megamind is wearing normal clothes: an AC/DC T-shirt and jeans, both black. If it weren't for his giant bald head and blue skin, he'd look like a normal person. _Weird,_ he thinks.

"Hi, Wayne," says Roxanne as she walks back into the small dining room with her pickle jar in one hand and a glass of water in the other. She places the jar on the table and tips the cup over the blue cube. As the water hits it, it shimmers into a large paper bag with the logo of a local bar and grill that she knows Wayne is particularly fond of.

"You dehydrated take-out?" the hero asks.

"Yup," she agrees, "It's the best way to keep it hot. Cold fries just aren't as good, even if you reheat them."

The hero is surprised to find a practical and non-evil use for Megamind's most well-known weapon. She removes the boxes of food and transfers the burgers and fries they contain onto the waiting plates. She dumps the fries from her order onto Wayne's plate, taking a handful of potato crisps instead. "873, throw these away," she orders. The indicated brainbot floats over and gathers the empty bag and boxes to cram into the kitchen trash can, then it returns to hovering out of the way in the living room with its three brothers. Wayne thinks it's odd to see Roxanne command the vicious little machine as if they are her own.

The two men stand around awkwardly with nothing to do while Roxanne arranges the table.

"Wayne, cool these off," she orders him, "We're out of ice." She indicates the collection of soda cans on the table. He obliges by blowing on each of them in turn with his super breathe, causing them to frost over. Megamind is surprised to see him use his powers for such a mundane task.

Roxanne seats herself at the head of the table and the two men follow suit, Megamind next to her and Wayne at the far end.

"So," begins Wayne after choosing a soda can and popping a french fry into his mouth, "What happened Tuesday?"

"We went for a walk in the park and stopped for ice cream," says Roxanne, expecting his question. She takes a bite of her cheeseburger and closes her eyes in momentary bliss.

"And this _rude_ little brat shot a water gun at us and shorted out our disguise generators," Megamind continues, scowling at the memory as he dunks a fry in ketchup.

"Then the crowd started to turn ugly—"

"—Didn't like seeing my handsome face, apparently—" he interrupts her.

She continues unfazed, "—So, he drew his gun and ordered them back and we ran to hide in the woods. He tried to fix the disguise generators, but he couldn't."

"They were never designed to be waterproof!" he exclaims, defending his invention, "I can't repair something like that sitting in a ditch in the middle of the woods. Not without any tools or replacement parts. When I finally did fix mine, it took three hours of fiddling and a completely new solid image projector to get it to work again. I'm still not sure it's rendering the skin tones accurately," he complains.

Roxanne continues, unfazed by his digression, "Then the police surrounded us, so we turned ourselves in."

"Peacefully," Megamind insists.

"And that's it?" Metro Man asks, already a quarter of the way through his burger.

"That's it," confirms Roxannne at the same time Megamind says, "Yes."

"I heard you tried to rob the ice cream truck," Wayne tells them.

Megamind rolls his eyes, "An _ice cream_ truck?" He is obviously insulted by the very idea, "Since when do _I_ rob food vendors?" he asks, then he reconsiders his statement, "Okay, admittedly I have swiped the occasional hot dog or something, but I haven't robbed something that petty for _cash_ since I was fifteen. Besides I'm retired." He leans back as if that statement explains everything.

"Retired? What, you just decided to quit being evil?" _Can he do that?_ wonders the hero.

"Yes," Megamind answers, "You'll have to find some other supervillain to help you put on a show for Metrocity. I'm done."

"You've spent twenty years terrorizing the city and then you just up and quit? You expect people to just believe that?" Wayne asks, feeling like something is deeply wrong with his world when he can't count on Megamind to be evil anymore.

He waves his hand dismissively in the air, "I'm not really concerned what _people_ believe at all. It has no bearing on my plans."

"And what are your plans, Megamind?" the hero asks.

"Nothing sinister, Metro Mahn," he claims, "I'm going to invent things, sell them, and become rich." He thinks about his statement and corrects himself, "Richer. Legally this time. I will advance current technology by decades, especially the fields of robotics, computers, and cybernetics." He smiles over at Roxanne, takes her hand, and squeezes it affectionately. She smiles back at him. "Once I'm well-known for non-evil things, perhaps I'll be able to get pardoned or find another country to live in that won't extradite me back to the U.S. Then Roxanne and I will be able to walk the streets like normal people."

Metro Man admits to himself that it sounds like a pretty good plan. If he means it. He looks at Roxanne, "You really believe that he's changed?"

"He has," she confirms, "He hasn't done anything illegal other than escape from prison and evade capture since we've been together. He's even started adapting some of his inventions to benign uses. Last week he contacted someone at Walter Reed Army Medical Center about testing some of his ideas for prosthetics controlled by neural implants on veterans who have lost limbs in the Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The main problem is just getting him security clearance. He's on just about every terrorist watch list in the world. He can't appear in person or he'll be arrested so they're trying to find a way for him to work on the project remotely. They're _that_ excited about the potential for his technology that they're willing to work around his being a _fugitive_ to get it. He might even be able to negotiate some sort deal to clear his record or put him on parole or something in exchange for the sort of technology he's got just lying around the lair. I swear, he has a few things that would give most physicists a heart attack to see, if they understood it at all."

"Like what?" asks the hero. Mostly he thinks Megamind's technology consists of robots that blow stuff up. Or, more often, blow themselves up in unexpected ways.

She shrugs, "Time manipulators, spacial distortion field generators, cloaking devices, true AIs, a cold fusion reactor," she answers, "You'd be surprised what he's invented trying to come up with a way to get past your powers, or just to make living as a fugitive easier."

Wayne blinks, "And you haven't managed to defeat me yet?" he asks the super genius.

Megamind grins, glad to have impressed his rival for once. "Unfortunately for the cause of Eevil, the only things capable of actually destroying _you_ probably vanished into a black hole along with both our planets. There must have been something truly formidable on your world to force your people to evolve _invulnerability_ as a survival trait."

"I don't know," admits Wayne, "I'd never really thought about it much."

Megamind isn't surprised. The hero has never struck him as one for deep thought. "I've spent _years_ thinking about it and battle testing my theories. I know how you're able to fly and why you have pretty much unlimited strength. I have strong suspicions about most of your other powers also, but I have no clue how your super speed works. It's almost like you generate a natural accelerated time field surrounding your body. I have no idea how to counter that, though I figured out how to generate a less extreme version artificially several months ago. I called it my fast forward button." He grins at the name, which he thinks is funny. "Given enough time, I'd probably find some way to defeat you, but why bother? I've lost interest in the game."

Metro Man reflects that he's started to get tired of the game as well. Most of the time, he'd rather be writing songs than saving helpless citizens. But what choice does _he_ have? Unlike the villain, he can't just quit. With great power comes great responsibility. He sighs, annoyed that Megamind has a choice he doesn't.

"I'm starting to dismantle some of my evil stuff that's too dangerous to sell. I've reduced two giant robots to their component parts and Minion's working on taking apart my Mega Plasma Cannon of Mass Destruction now. Yesterday I talked to the Metrocity Zoo about donating my alligators to their reptile exhibit. They think marketing them as Megamind's Evil Alligators might help drum up business. They're planning to hang a cutout of Roxanne dangling over their pit and they promise to keep them well supplied with squeaky toys. I think they'll feel right at home," he says proudly, "I'm going to miss Fluffy, though."

"Fluffy?" asks Wayne.

"His favorite one," Roxanne answers, "He's the one with a notch out of his tail about six inches from the tip. He's the first one Megamind ever bought."

"Actually, I stole him," he corrects her, "But he _was_ my first one." He smiles wistfully, remembering the day he first brought the 3-foot reptile home. He'd nearly bit off his new master's hand, but Megamind had loved the creature immediately. "Oh, did I tell you I sent NASA a document outlining how faster-that-light travel actually works, just for fun? I have a bet with Minion on whether they'll take it seriously or not," Megamind grins.

Roxanne suddenly looks a bit ill. She takes a sip of her soda, hoping it will calm her stomach. No luck, "Excuse me," she says as she leaves the table to hurry toward the bathroom, nearly knocking over her chair in her haste.

Megamind watches her leave the room, a slightly concerned frown on his face. Metro Man notices and wonders what's going on, "Is she okay?"

"Yes, she's fine," he answers, just before they both hear the unmistakable sounds of Roxanne vomiting into the toilet. Megamind winces, but doesn't move to check on her. This isn't the first time she's thrown up today, but she'd been fine for the last three hours. They had both thought it had passed for the day.

Metro Man raises an eyebrow in suspicion. "Really?" he asks, not believing him. "Because she doesn't sound fine to me." Clearly, Roxanne is ill. "Why'd you drag her out here if she was sick? I would have rescheduled."

"She's not sick. She's just…" Should he say it? Ah hell, he'll guess in a minute or so anyway. "She's pregnant."

"What!" Wayne drops his burger to the plate and is half out of his seat before he realizes what he's doing, "You got her pregnant?" He is unaware of the slightly orange glow of his eyes, "You evil son of a… Crabnuggets!" With three super speed steps he's in front of Megamind, his fist clenched in the villain's collar, "And here I was going along with that story that you'd turned yourself around—"

"Cool it superhero! You're going to start burning holes in things. Like me. Hey!" he waves his hand in front of the raging hero's eyes, finally getting his attention, "I didn't push her into anything. I swear." Wayne relaxes his grip slightly, his eyes dimming. "Atta boy," he tells the hero, patting the hand that's still holding his collar, "Calm down. She won't like it if you bruise me."

With a frustrated grunt, he releases Megamind, sending him stumbling a few feet, and stalks across the room, brainbots scattering out of his way. He pulls his hand through his silver-streaked, perfect hair. "What the heck were you _thinking,_ Megamind?" he demands, exasperated.

"Not a whole lot, or else we wouldn't be in this situation," he admits, grinning as he recalls the memory of that night, stored in perfect detail in his remarkable mind. She'd been more fantastic than he'd dreamed. "I was just amazed at my luck."

"Luck is right," Wayne says, "It shouldn't even be possible. You're as much an alien as I am and I know I've been told I _can't_ father children with humans. How did _you_ manage it? Are you sure it's even _yours_."

"Do not even suggest that to me, _hero_. This is _Roxanne_ we're talking about," Megamind growls, "Of course it's mine." He calms himself a bit before continuing, "I thought it would be obvious that you and I are not the same species. Your triple-helix glaupunk DNA is not remotely compatible with humans. But my DNA is nearly identical, and the proof is in there vomiting her lunch. If you don't believe me, you just ask her when she comes out if she has another lover that might be responsible for her condition. I'd like to see what she'll do to you for suggesting it."

Metro Man decides to pass on that and to accept Megamind at his word. Metro Man scowls at his rival, hating the knowledge that not only had she willingly given herself to the blue man but now had his child growing inside of her. He'd told her Megamind would ruin her. Now look what has happened. She is pregnant, facing legal charges, and who knows what else. All because of him! "Some genius you are, Megamind!" he sputters, "What are you planning to do now?"

"The same thing I told you before. I'm going to take up honest work and look after my family. It's just that the family part is coming sooner than we'd expected," he straightens his clothes and brushes himself off.

"Are you going to marry her?" Wayne Scott's protective side is coming out. Megamind _better_ do the right thing by her. He'll drag him to the courthouse himself if he has to.

Megamind nods and answers seriously, "That's the plan. The only problem is managing it without getting arrested first. I'll probably spend our wedding night breaking out of prison again. It gets so _tedious_ living as a fugitive!" he complains.

"You should have thought of that before embarking on your life of crime, Megamind."

He shrugs, not admitting that the hero is right, but not denying it either. "Too late to do anything about it now," he says.

The toilet flushes, water is heard running, and both men look toward the bathroom door as Roxanne emerges. She glances between the two men standing in the living room and notes the nervous brainbots cowering in the kitchen. "You told him, didn't you?" she asks.

"You were vomiting," Megamind points out, "He would have guessed morning sickness by the time you were out. Are you okay now?"

"Yeah, mostly," she answers, "We _were_ going to tell you today, Wayne," she says. She walks into the kitchen for a glass of water to rinse her mouth with. She rinses and spits several times before she's satisfied. The brainbots crowd close to her for comfort. She soothes them with gentle strokes of her fingers, "Are we done eating?" she asks the men, "I don't think I want to risk trying again until my stomach settles."

"Yeah, Roxie. I don't feel like eating right now either," Wayne agrees.

She leaves the bots floating in the kitchen and approaches Megamind in the living room. She steps close and pulls his de-gun from its holster on his right thigh before walking into the dining room. Wayne is confused. Megamind just smiles proudly, watching her handle his gun. She checks the setting and aims it at her plate of food, which sparkles and collapses into a glowing blue cube, "Damn it, I got the plate too. What did I do wrong?" she asks.

Megamind comes up close behind her and checks the settings over her shoulder, "The power's set too high. Slide it down halfway and it should work better." He tips some water onto the cube, transforming it back into a partially-eaten burger and a handful of potato crisps on a plate so she can try again.

This time it works and the blue cube clatters onto her intact plate. She does the same thing for the other two meals. She proudly picks up the three cubes and tosses one to Wayne, who catches it and examines it briefly before pocketing it somewhere in his costume. Roxanne sticks the other two cubes in her purse and returns the de-gun to Megamind, who holsters it on his thigh. Then she orders the nervous brainbots to clear the table and wash the dishes. It will calm them to have something to do.

The chores done, she leads Megamind back into the living room. She gestures for Wayne to take the armchair on the end. He hesitates a moment before seating himself. Megamind sits on the end of the couch farthest from Wayne and Roxanne sits beside him, leaning back against him with her legs up on the rest of the couch. One of Megamind's arms wraps itself protectively around her, his hand resting on her lower abdomen.

This is the first time Wayne's ever seen them that close together. They look completely comfortable together, as if there's nothing more natural for them than leaning against each other like that. As if they belonged together. He feels conflicted, not sure if he's happy for them or jealous that they have found something he never has. He tells himself jealousy is not an emotion worthy of a hero and does his best to push the feeling down.

"We found out Tuesday after work," she begins to explain, "That's why we went to the park. I was overwhelmed and I needed a distraction. So, we took a walk. Believe me, the last thing we were thinking of was terrorizing people or robbing ice cream trucks. I just needed to see the sky and stretch my legs," she tells Wayne, "And instead I spent the night alone in a jail cell with a meth addict named Crystal, if you can believe it."

"That's what it's going to be like living with him," the hero predicts, not entirely successful at squelching his jealousy. Megamind glares at him, but doesn't deny it.

"I know," she answers, "But I'm stuck with him. It's a little late to back out now." She cranes her neck back to look fondly up at Megmind. He looks down and kisses her on the forehead. Neither has to declare their feelings out loud, it's clear even to Metro Man how they feel about each other. He feels a little uncomfortable watching them, as if he is intruding on something private. He's relieved when they look away from each other and return their attention to him. "Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together," she finishes.

"What if you're convicted, Roxanne?" Wayne asks seriously. Love is a good thing, but it isn't enough to keep her out of jail. Not on its own, anyway.

"I have a good lawyer," she answers, "Hopefully I won't be."

"But what if you are?" he presses. He feels like she isn't taking the situation seriously enough. Doesn't she realize that she's facing jail time?

"If my lawyer can't get me out legally, Megamind will get me out his way," she answers.

_Oh, yeah, _he thinks. _There is that. _The threat of jail really wouldn't mean much to a woman dating the man who's in The Guinness Book of World Records for the most prison breaks in history.

Megamind hugs her closer, his eyes on the hero. He tells the Defender of Metro City without any pretense, "I won't let her stay behind bars, especially now. Our child will _not_ be born in prison, no matter what I have to do."

Wayne nods at the newly retired villain. "If it comes to that, I won't stop you," he decides. To himself he thinks, _I may even help._

"Thank you, Wayne," says Roxanne, "That means a lot to us."

The hero shrugs, "I'm supposed to defend Truth and Justice. Where would the justice be in jailing a pregnant woman for trying to buy ice cream or the truth in claiming she was trying to hurt someone? I'm also supposed to help the people of Metro City. You two are as much a part of the city as anyone and I think you're going to need help. What would you like me to do?"

"Are you sure you want to get involved? People won't like it if you take our side," Roxanne warns.

"He's _Metro Mahn_. When he _farts_, people thank him for the breeze," Megamind grouses, "Worry about us. He could roll in a sewer and still come out gleaming white."

"The pristine white of Good can't be stained by the putrid filth of Evil," declares Metro Man with a gleaming superhero smile.

"Save it, hero. I'm retired." Megamind answers, not in the mood to play heros and villains today.

"Oh, hush, both of you," Roxanne scolds, "If you want to help us, Wayne, there are several things you could do."

"I'm listening," answers the hero with good humor, "So long as I don't have to rob any ice cream trucks," he teases.

"No. No ice cream truck robberies," she laughs, "But there is one thing that's a little less-than-legal…" Roxanne outlines the plan and the three of them discuss the details. Wayne finds himself enjoying the prospect of doing something slightly devious for a change, while still in the pursuit of truth and justice. He will not betray his oath to protect his city, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he has to do what everyone expects of him either.

An hour later, the hero is gone and Roxanne is dehydrating her possessions and packing them carefully away. The contents of her entire apartment fit inside one large cardboard box which she hands off to the brainbots to fly back to the lair. She looks around her empty apartment one last time, leaning back into her fiancé's arms. She will miss the cheery loft which holds so many happy memories for her, but nothing stays the same forever. She turns to Megamind and kisses him gently on the lips, "Let's go home," she tells him. They leave and lock the door behind them. The only thing left in the apartment, sitting in the middle of the living room floor, is a small sound-proof box containing several bugging devices still transmitting innocent silence.


	25. Calling Mom Again

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

_Rin—_

"Hello?"

"Are you ready to talk yet?"

_*sigh*_ "I suppose. Tell me why, out of all the perfectly nice men in this city, you chose the one supervillain? I don't understand. We raised you better than that."

"He's not as bad as you think Mom. That whole supervillain thing, it's an act. That's not the way he really is. He actually reminds me a lot of Dad."

"Your father was never a criminal. He was a good man."

"So is Megamind, deep down. Dad had trouble with authority too, remember?"

"He never broke the law."

"No, but Dad wasn't raised in a prison either. I'm amazed Megamind isn't a complete sociopath from what he's told me about his childhood."

"Funny, I thought he was a sociopath."

"No, he isn't. He has a good heart. He's just been pushed down so many times that he just accepted that he was supposed to be the bad guy. He really isn't."

"Well, I'll have to take your word for that. It's beyond me how you could be attracted to a man like that."

"Because he's _not_ like that." _*pause*_ "You know how Dad was when he'd go out to the garage with some crazy idea he just had to figure out? How he'd work through meals and late into the night, sometimes falling asleep at his workbench or working straight through until morning? I know it used to drive you crazy how he just couldn't leave it until he'd puzzled it out. Megamind's exactly the same way. He's brilliant, like Dad was. Only instead of working with motorcycles and ham radios and things like that, Megamind creates cyborgs and cold fusion reactors. It's on a completely different level, but it's the same thing. I feel safe when I'm sitting in his planning room watching him draft out new blueprints or out in the workshop handing him tools while he creates something new. And he includes me in it. He never acts like he thinks I'm stupid because I can't follow the physics he's using. He says I catch things he'd never notice because he's too deep in the technical details. He can be completely oblivious to incredibly obvious flaws sometimes. It's kind of funny. That giant brain and he can still be a complete idiot."

"You're helping a supervillain create things?"

"He's not a supervillain anymore, Mom. He's given it up."

"Just for you he's given up a lifetime of criminal activities?"

"Yes, he has. For me, and for the baby."

"You really are pregnant, then?"

"Yes."

"And that's why you're marrying him?"

"No. That's why I'm marrying him _now_. If I weren't pregnant, I'm sure we'd still get married. We'd just wait a few more months. This doesn't really change things. It just speeds them up."

"When are you planning the ceremony?"

"We're going to the courthouse tomorrow. Do you want to be there? It would mean a lot to me if you were."

"No. It would probably be better if I wasn't. I still need more time to accept it. If I went tomorrow I'd be sure to say something everyone would regret. I don't want to ruin your day. But… Send me some pictures, okay? I don't want to miss it entirely."

"I'll do that."

"I love you, Roxanne."

"I love you too Mom."

"Good-bye."

"Bye."

**Some things are hard for a mother to accept. **

**Review, please. **


	26. Outside the Courthouse

The random citizens in the vicinity of the Metro City Courthouse Monday afternoon are confused by a strange sight. At the curb, seemingly from out of thin air, step three of the most recognizable faces in the city: Megamind, Minion, and Roxanne Ritchi. Megamind is, unusually, not sporting his customary cape and spikes, but instead wears a rather ordinary, though well-tailored, black suit with a white dress shirt. He is not wearing a tie and the collar is popped up over the back of his neck, but otherwise he is dressed very much as you might expect a normal man to dress for a court appearance or business meeting. Of course, Megamind has never before appeared in court wearing anything most citizens would consider this ordinary. However, today this is what he is wearing. His companion, Miss Ritchi, wears a pretty white sundress with a delicate blue flower print. Minion appears nearly exactly as he always does, in his normal robot gorilla body, though the discerning among the crowd might note that the suit has been recently polished, the fake fur brushed, and the most severe dents hammered out of the chest plate.

The trio stand on the sidewalk, seeming to wait for something. This makes the citizens worry, conditioned as they are to be wary of anything involving the two aliens, especially when in the company of their favorite hostage. In the distance, a pair of policemen begins to approach, secretly hoping that something happens to prevent them from reaching their goal. Megamind is dangerous and they fear him. They will do their duty and arrest him, but they would be well-pleased for the excuse not to.

Before they can get very close to their goal, that excuse arrives in the form of one of the other most recognizable faces in the city. Metro Man.

The hero drifts from the sky and touches down next to the three, seemingly oblivious to the bystanders. To the onlookers' surprise, he does not immediately grab Megamind by the collar and fly him back to the prison. Instead he grins at the three and seems to chat with them. The crowd, used to having a bit of entertainment whenever the two enemies are together, find themselves disappointed as the group simply stands around talking. At one point they think mayhem is about to ensue when Metro Man slaps Megamind on the back, sending him stumbling forward. But the villain merely recovers his balance and laughs good-naturedly at the larger man.

After a few minutes the police, who had paused in their approach when the hero arrived, walk forward once more. Taking courage from each other's presence, the officers step up to the group and one clears his throat.

Everyone turn towards him with curiosity. Megamind appears apprehensive, but Roxanne captures his hand and entwines her fingers with his, calming him.

"May I help you with something, officers?" booms Metro Man with a gleaming smile.

"Err," begins the smaller of the two policemen, "Are you going to arrest Megamind?"

"Not today, my fine servant of the people," he answers heroically, "He has an important appointment at the courthouse in a few minutes. I wouldn't want him to miss it."

"But it's Megamind!" argued the officer, "You can't let him walk around free. He's dangerous."

"I'm well aware of that, but as you can see, he is unarmed and I have my eye on him. He's not about to start any trouble today, are you Megamind?" the hero turns toward the villain as he asks the question.

Megamind smiles enigmatically and answers, "I have no evil plans for you today, officers. I'm merely here to take care of a…legal issue at the courthouse."

"Why is he holding Miss Ritchi's hand?" the officer asks the hero, in a lowered voice.

The hero leans toward him conspiratorially and answers with a grin, "Because she wants him to."

"Shouldn't she be holding your hand instead?" the officer presses.

"Of course not," he answers, "She's not _my_ girlfriend."

The officers are uncertain how to take that, but confronted by the hero's confident smile, they stand down and walk away to watch from a safer distance. They have confidence that Metro Man will keep the blue villain in check. They would feel better, though, if the hero would haul the man away, as they've come to expect.

Soon a non-descript older man in a suit approaches the group. Apparently, the man is who they were expecting because, at his arrival, they all walk toward the courthouse and disappear through the main entrance.

The random citizens of Metro City are disappointed not to have witnessed anything exciting from the supervillain they all love to hate. A few decide to linger in the area, sure that the courthouse itself will explode or collapse imminently and determined not to miss it. Something exciting _must_ be about to happen if Megamind is involved.

The patient witnesses are rewarded soon, but not with the act of wanton destruction they are anticipating. A few minutes after the local celebrities and the attorney vanish into the courthouse, news vans begin to arrive and set up for a press conference. The reporters don't know exactly what is going on, but the conference had been called by Megamind. Apparently he has an announcement to make. Though gathering anywhere at the request of the supervillain is a potentially dangerous action, it has always proven to be newsworthy. Because of this, every one of Metro City's television news stations and print news offices risks a reporter and cameraman to cover the story, even KMCP Channel 8.

Melissa Nealy, the reporter covering for Roxanne Ritchi while she's on leave, arrives at the scene with Hal Stewart, a man she is quickly learning to hate. The only thing he ever talks about is Roxanne. How Roxanne likes him to frame a shot. How Roxanne begins an interview. How Roxanne likes her coffee. Seriously, the man has stalker issues. The only thing that had managed to shut him up was bringing up the almost-certain fact that Roxanne is dating Megamind. After mentioning that, the red-head had scowled at her and not spoken a word for most of an hour. Now, setting up for the Megamind press conference, Hal is busy muttering curses about alien freaks while he readies his equipment.

While waiting for the villain to arrive, the reporters mingle with the loitering witnesses from earlier. Speculation takes off and rumors abound but somehow no one hits on the exact combination of improbable events that are about to be announced. The rumors are soon to be put to rest as the courthouse doors open and three aliens and two humans emerge.

Megamind and Roxanne are in front, with Minion and Metro Man behind. The attorney stands off to the side, observing without being obtrusive. The couple is beaming at the crowd and they're clasping hands, her right in his left.

As they approach the podium at the base of the steps, someone shouts out, "Ritchi's wearing a wedding ring!" It's true. A simple silver band sits on the third finger of her left hand, mute testimony to part of the announcement that is about to be given. This sets the crowd going and nothing can be heard for a moment over the chatter of the crowd. Cameramen jostle to get a shot of the telltale jewelry. Except for Hal Stewart, who allows himself to be pushed to the back of the crowd, unwilling to confirm with his own eyes or camera the evidence sitting on the finger of the object of his obsession. Melissa notices and fumes that he's missing the shot that every other news organization in the city is getting.

Megamind and Roxanne wait while conversation dies down. Megamind blows on one of the microphones clipped to the podium, testing if it is working. Once satisfied, he speaks confidently to the crowd, "Citizens of Metrocity, today is a glorious day that may change how you think of me forever! It marks a changing point in my life on both the personal and professional level. There are two momentous announcements I'd like to make. The first, you have already guessed. I am pleased to announce that eleven minutes ago, Roxanne and I officially became husband and wife."

Conversation explodes again and no one can be heard over the din. Camera flashes go off as the couple wait patiently for a chance for Megamind to speak again.

Hal Stewart looks like someone punched him in the stomach and, as far as Melissa can tell, isn't getting any decent shots. She weaves her way over to the cameraman and hisses to him, "What is wrong with you, Hal? You're missing the shot!"

He shakes himself and hoists the camera back onto his shoulder, reluctantly recording the man who has just ripped his heart from his chest and stomped on it.

When the crowd calms, Megamind makes his second announcement, "Also, I'd like to officially announce my retirement as Metrocity's supervillain."

If the previous noise level had been loud, the reaction to this second piece of news is deafening. Reporters shout questions over the top of each other, flailing their arms in the air in an attempt to be recognized and called upon. Finally, the chaos dies down and Roxanne chooses a random reporter from the crowd.

"Megamind! Why have you chosen to give up supervillainy?"

"Because my wife told me to," he answers, eliciting an appreciative chuckle from the crowd. He continues more seriously, "It was a condition she set on our relationship. If I wanted her, I had to give up the pursuit of evil. I don't think it's a bargain I'll regret."

"Miss Ritchi! Can you tell us why you have chosen the villain over the hero?"

"Metro Man and I are good friends, but we were never romantically involved. I didn't choose Megamind over Metro Man at all. I chose Megamind for the same reason any woman chooses her husband. I love him," she leans toward Megamind slightly as she finishes, her arm snaking around his waist.

Hal feels like he's going to be sick.

"Doesn't it bother you that he's blue?" another reporter calls out.

"Not at all!" she grins, "Blue's my favorite color."

"But you're not even the same species!" the same reporter continues.

Megamind grins, answering even though the question was directed at Roxanne, "That's okay, I don't hold it against her." The crowd laughs again.

"What's Megamind like in bed?" comes a question from somewhere in the back of the crowd.

Roxanne blushes, intending to ignore the question, but Megamind grins and shouts an answer, "I'm _fantastic_!" The crowd laps it up.

"Will there be blue babies in your future?" someone asks.

"One step at a time!" Roxanne objects, neatly sidestepping the question, "We only just took our vows!"

"Megamind! What are you going to do now that you're retired from evil?"

"I can still be a mad scientist. I intend to patent and sell my inventions. I have a lot more to contribute to this planet than giant robots of mass destruction," he answers.

"Like what?"

"Ah-ah!" he warns, shaking his finger in the air, "That would be proprietary information. You'll just have to wait and see!" he teases the crowd.

Someone seems to notice Metro Man standing unobtrusively behind his rival, or as unobtrusively as a seven-foot tall wall of muscle can appear, "Metro Man! How does it feel to see your archenemy married to your girl?"

"Well, citizen," he answered with a smile worthy of a toothpaste ad, "As she just said, she was never my girl in the first place. And since he's retired, he's also not my archenemy. I'm just glad to see my two good friends so happy together."

Several spectators say "Awww…"

"When are you going to haul him back to prison?" demands someone of Metro Man.

"Not today," he answers, "Consider it a wedding gift. As long as he stays out of trouble, I'm not inclined to haul him back to prison. It's a wasted effort anyway. He never stays there." A few people in the crowd laugh at the observation.

"Roxanne! Are you going to help with breaking him out of prison now?"

"Of course not!" she protests, "He's never needed my help before," she laughs, "Besides, that would be illegal. One criminal in the family is enough."

"Speaking of criminals, what happened when you were arrested last week?"

Her lawyer stands up straighter and starts to step forward, but stops with a proud smile when she answers without his prompting, "Oh, come on. You know I can't comment on an on-going lawsuit."

"What does your family think of your marrying Megamind?"

"My mother wasn't thrilled with the idea," she admits, "But she'll get used to it."

"How'd an evil blue freak like you trick her into marrying you?" shouts Hal Stewart, no longer able to keep his rage in check, "The Roxy I know would never—Hey! Leave me alone!" Hal finds himself lifted bodily from the ground by Metro Man and flown off to a safe distance several blocks away, shouting all the way, "I want to ask my question! You think you're such a great hero? How come you didn't do your job and keep him away from her?..." Since he was holding his camera when he was removed, Melissa Nealy finds herself suddenly without a cameraman and knows that Hal probably just signed his own pink slip. Being removed from a press conference by Metro Man and losing any footage from the last half because of it will not look good to their boss. She isn't happy to think of the lost footage, but she thinks it might be worth it to finally get rid of Hal. She flips to a clean sheet in on her pad of paper and starts making notes in shorthand, determined not to miss anything more now that her cameraman is gone.

"For those of you who don't know, that heckler was Hal Stewart. He's been my cameraman at channel 8 for several years, but he doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does," explains Roxanne to the crowd, "And he doesn't know Megamind at all. To address his concern, Megamind didn't trick me into anything. This is what we _both_ wanted."

"Metro Man!" someone calls as the hero returns from hauling Hal Stewart away, "Since you're _not_ dating Miss Rit—Mrs. Megamind, do you have a special lady in your life?"

The superhero actually blushes, caught off-guard by the question. He rubs the back of his neck absently and answers, "No. Not at the moment." He wonders if he might actually find someone now. He'd allowed being a superhero to push personal things like that entirely out of his life. He wonders if that was a mistake. It would be nice to have a woman look at him the way Roxanne looks at Megamind. To have someone to hold at night and share his life. But that would mean putting her in danger. Could he do that to someone he loved? It was something he would have to think about.

"Minion! What do you think of Megamind getting married?"

The fish awkwardly steps toward the podium in his gorilla suit, feeling strange to be asked publically for his opinion on anything. "Well, I always liked Ma'am and she makes Sir happy. I'm glad he's finally found love." He nods his fish body in his dome, satisfied with his answer and steps back.

But the press isn't quite finished with him. "How do you feel about giving up evil?"

That question is a little more difficult. He needs to answer truthfully, but not give the impression that he didn't approve of Sir's previous choices. He steps forward again and says, "I'll help Sir with whatever path he chooses, but I'm happy with the idea of us not being evil anymore. I think it will make it easier for people to accept their marriage if they're not trying to take over the city together."

"Metro Man! What do _you_ think of Megamind giving up evil?"

Metro Man flashes a heroic smile and answers, "I think today the powers of love and goodness have triumphed over the depravities of evil. It has turned a black-hearted supervillain into a productive member of society and given him hope for the future. If more evil-doers would learn from his example, this city would truly be a better place for each and every citizen."

Megamind scowls at him, torn between agreeing that Roxanne is the best thing to ever happen to him and his habitual reflex to counter Metro Man's overly heroic speeches. He hates allowing Metro Man to win the verbal argument that good has triumphed over evil. But really, hasn't it? And is that such a bad thing this time?

Roxanne sees where his mind is going (his face really is incredibly expressive) and she realizes a distraction is called for. "Okay, one more question!" she decides completely arbitrarily. She calls on Melissa, hoping her co-worker would come up with something appropriate to ask to help wrap things up.

Melissa does not disappoint her as she asks, "Megamind, would you kiss the bride?"

"Certainly!" he responds, the debate on whether it was good or evil that had won the day is instantly forgotten. He gamely pulls Roxanne into his arms and gives her a nice long kiss for the cameras, ending with slightly more tongue than is really appropriate in public, but Roxanne isn't complaining. The crowd of reporters and bystanders woops and calls at the newlyweds and clap for them when they come up for air. Megamind grins from ear to ear, reflecting that he'd never heard a crowd cheer for _him _before. It feels nice. Roxanne clings to him, smiling nearly as broadly. The couple couldn't be happier as they and their companions make their way to the invisible car.

Minion takes the driver's seat and Roxanne slides into the back. Before Megamind enters, he turns to Metro Man, "I really appreciate your help today," he tells the man, "This would have been much harder without you keeping the cops back."

"No problem little buddy," he answers graciously, "You just make sure to treat her right, okay? I wouldn't want to have to come hurt you."

"Yeah, me neither." He starts to climb into the car and then turns back, "Listen, keep your eyes open. I just announced to every criminal in the city that I quit being the supervillain. You're going to have a crime spree starting in the next few days when they realize I'm not holding them back anymore."

"You were holding the criminals back?" asks Metro Man in astonishment.

"Supervillain, remember? I had to defend my territory," he explains.

"Crabnuggets! I thought this was going to make my life easier," Wayne complains.

"Since when have I _ever_ made your life easier, Metro _Mahn_?" Megamind grins, "But if I were being eevil, I wouldn't even give you the warning."

"You could _keep_ holding them back," he suggests.

"Do I look like a hero to you?" Megamind asks.

"Anyone can be a hero, Megamind. This is your city as much as it is mine," argues the actual hero, "Would you allow innocent citizens to be hurt because you didn't act when you could?" It's the same reasoning that has trapped Wayne Scott into continuing as a hero, even though he'd rather be a musician. He hopes Megamind's conscience works the same way.

Megamind glances in toward Roxanne and back to his rival. If Roxanne was ever in danger and he couldn't get to her, he would hope someone else would step in to help her. Could he do any less for someone else? "Rrrgh," he growls, "I suppose I could continue the brainbot patrols, at least. But I'm not going out scaring people off in person anymore. You'll have to handle that yourself, hero. I'll set things up to call you when the bots notice anything of interest. Will that work? At least until things calm down, then we'll have to renegotiate."

"Renegotiate?" asks Wayne, not liking the sound of that.

"I'm a businessman, now. I can't let you use my robot horde without some compensation. What sort of capitalist would that be?"

"You know, I'm not sure you really comprehend the meaning of giving up evil, Megamind," observes Metro Man.

He laughs, "I never claimed to be the good guy, Metro Mahn."

"I think you'll come around to my side eventually," answers the hero.

"How do you figure that?" he asks with a smirk.

"All I have to do is convince your wife and before you know it, you'll be wearing white," teases Wayne.

"Not going to happen," Megamind answers with a grin.

"We'll see," answers the hero, not conceding defeat in the least, "Now get out of here. I've got better things to do than stand around being your bodyguard all day. Apparently, I have a crime wave to nip in the bud."

Megamind nods and climbs into the back of the invisible car with the new Mrs. Megamind. The hero is gone before the door is entirely closed, but Megamind doesn't notice. All his attention is on his bride. In deference to Minion's presence, they merely cuddle against each other as the fish drives them home. There will be plenty of time for marital activities later, when they're in private.

**I was going to follow them inside and show the people's reactions to their presence and the ceremony and all that, but it was incredibly boring. Even Metro Man walking them through security wasn't that interesting. A civil ceremony is just not that exciting. You walk in, see the judge, sign the prenup (in their case), say your vows, and sign more papers. I actually tried writing it, but it was incredibly dull. So, I did it this way instead. **

**Review please. **


	27. Alone in their Hotel Room

**Dear gentle reader, **

**You may want to skip the first few paragraphs here because they contain descriptions purely gratuitous sexual acts and intercourse between consenting, married adults. It does not advance the plot in any significant way and I don't know why I put it in. Oh, wait. I remember. Because I like sex. It's fairly soft, but it definitely passes by that T rating by a bit. Hence the new rating. Anyhoo, if you skip down to somewhere around the seventh paragraph (I've marked the spot), things should be safe again. And for those who choose not to heed my warning… Have fun. :)**

"Ngh…Ah...Oh…Ah…Yes…" Roxanne pants, laying back on the hotel bed. She glances down to meet the electric green eyes of her brand new husband. He looks smug and she's sure he's smirking, though she can't see his mouth from her angle. He flicks his tongue again and she throws her head back, bucking her pelvis up against his clever mouth.

He had learned in their first few nights together exactly what to do to drive her wild and he uses that knowledge mercilessly, loving the feeling of power he gets from being able to finally make her react exactly as wants her to. He also thoroughly enjoys tonguing her for his own enjoyment. He'd spent so many years having her regularly tied up and under his control. Yet he'd never allowed himself to take advantage of it. Now, being able to finally touch her so intimately is an intoxicating indulgence.

She reaches out to grasp his head in her hands, for once wishing he had hair so she had something to grip as she pulls his face closer to her, encouraging him to dip his tongue deep inside. She feels his teeth scrape her gently as he grins in approval. Her legs, hooked up over his shoulders, tighten around him as she loses herself in the magic he's working on her. She writhes and gasps as he brings her closer and closer to the edge. He enjoys teasing her, bringing her nearly there and then letting it fade. Each time he brings her higher than the time before. Finally his tongue slides over that perfect spot again and she's lost over the abyss. She's completely unaware of calling his name as she feels the warm tingle of her release spread from her center down her legs and all the way to her toes. She holds herself still for a moment, savoring that one last pulse of bliss before the sensation fades, leaving her dazed and panting.

Megamind licks her once more, directly on her now hyper-sensitive clit, making her gasp in pleasure that's so intense it's almost pain. "You're evil," she accuses him. He chuckles as, unable to stand it any longer, she pushes his head away from her.

She smiles at him now that she's finally able to see his whole face. His eyes are hungry and he licks his blue lips as he crawls up her body. "My turn," he purrs. Obediently, she repositions herself under him, her legs open and her pelvis tilted up towards him invitingly. He maneuvers himself into position above her but she captures his penis in her hand before he can enter her. She wants to touch him first. She likes the way he feels. She strokes his smooth, hot shaft and it twitches in response. She wraps her fingers around and slides them slowly upwards and then back, her other hand tracing circles against the pinkish head and spreading his slick precum across it. He moans quietly, thrusting into her hands.

The more she learns about him, the less alien he seems. Even now, completely naked with every difference in his blue anatomy on display for her, she can't help but marvel at how human he is. Other than its color, blue along the shaft and pink at the tip, his cock is as normal as that of any other man on the planet and the same goes for the rest of his body. He's blue and oddly proportioned, but nothing is unfamiliar. It's hard to believe he's a different species from a completely different star system. She thinks he's the sexiest man she's ever met.

She pulls him downward and positions his tip at her entrance. She shifts to forces him just inside and he doesn't need any more encouragement than that. He slides in with one smooth motion and sets a slow rhythm, half-closing those brilliant eyes in pleasure. She rolls her hips to follow his lead and her body responds eagerly to his penetration, despite having just come a moment before. He knows exactly what he's doing. His lips meet hers and she tastes herself on his lips. He nips at her bottom lip, smiling as he captures it and sucks hard. She arches her body against his. He shifts onto his elbows so he can cover one breast with his hand, kneading the soft flesh and pinching hard at her nipple. It's a slightly awkward position, but worth it because of the way the slight pain on her sensitive skin enhances her arousal. "Again," she demands and he complies, his thrusts coming faster as their mutual excitement builds. She soon finds herself trembling, knowing she's _so_ close. Her hands grip his skinny butt, scratching as she pulls him tight against her, wanting him as deep inside as he can go. He grants her wish and thrusts in hard to his full length three times before the word explodes around them. This time when she calls out his name, he is right with her, her name on his lips and his body shuddering above her own.

**(A/N: Okay, it should be safe now. I think they're spent.)**

He collapses on her, both of them sweaty and panting as they recover from their latest round of love-making. He lifts his weight off her a bit and kisses her tenderly before resting his forehead on hers. "Mine," he growls at her, pleased beyond measure that what his instincts have been screaming at him for the last month is finally, actually true. She is his.

"All yours," she agrees contentedly. "And you're mine," she asserts, feeling every bit as possessive in her own human way as he does in the way of his people. When it comes right down to it, they're not all that different.

"Forever and always," he tells her, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

"Forever and always," she agrees, tightening her arms around him.

It is nearly evening, the light from the setting sun streams in through the open curtains of their room on the 40th floor of the luxury hotel they booked for the night. Although they've been living together and making love regularly for a month now, there's still something significant about their wedding night. Minion had wisely insisted that they get out of the lair for a little honeymoon, likely to give himself a night off as much as to give them time alone. They agreed with him and splurged on a room at the most posh hotel in the city.

They had, of course, both arrived in disguise. Roxanne's disguise generator is the same one she had worn on the afternoon she was arrested. It is supposed to be sitting in a bag in the police evidence room, but no one at the station realizes it's gone missing yet, and probably never will. This is because it has been neatly replaced by a dummy watch that looks, to all but the most critical eye, exactly like the original. Unlike the real one, nothing inside the replacement could ever actually work or give away the design principals Megamind used for the working model.

The switch had been made by Metro Man using his super speed to render him all but invisible to any observer. He had snuck in, made the switch, and been gone all within the time it took for the attendant in the room to blink his eye. As one pledged to uphold truth and justice, he'd been understandably reluctant to tamper with evidence. He'd flat-out refused to merely steal the watch, but had agreed to the switch because it would have absolutely no bearing on Roxanne's case. The dummy watch would serve just as well as the original to provide evidence of a malfunctioning Megamind gadget found on her at the time of her arrest. However, if an outside agency, such as the CIA or FBI decided to take an interest in the device, the dummy would prevent the real technology from falling into the wrong hands.

Megamind has a healthy sense of distrust for the government and is extremely paranoid about what will happen if anyone starts looking seriously into his works of evil. If his technology falls into the hands of the wrong people, the results could be disastrous. His disguise generators have already given him access to top secret, high security facilities that he really had no business being in. Lucky for the planet, although he _was_ a supervillain at the time, his intentions were actually relatively benign. In the hands of a less scrupulous villain or a misguided government agency, the potential for disaster is nearly unlimited.

Once Megamind had explained all this to Metro Man, the hero had agreed that it was for the greater good not to leave the disguise generator in the hands of the Metro City police. Metro Man had agreed to be the one to retrieve the watch because he had, by far, the best chance of accomplishing it undetected. Even if he were caught, a flash of that hero's smile and a vague explanation that he was doing it to protect the helpless people of Metro City would be enough to get him out of any trouble it might bring. Metro Man could do no wrong.

After the press conference and a quick trip back to the lair to take care of a few things, they'd checked in under one of several assumed names that Megamind had set up years ago for himself. According to the hotel record, tonight he was a Stephen York. Mr. York is not a stolen identity and there is real money in the bank account he used to pay for the room. As far as crimes go, it is a minor and victimless one. Roxanne could have checked-in under her own name, but she is too well-known. She was certain someone in the city would think to call all the hotels asking if a Roxanne Ritchi-Megamind had checked in. They do not want to be bothered by either paparazzi or police.

Alone in their room, Megamind's light blue body is stretched out on the bed and Roxanne is propped on her side next to him, just as nude as he is. Familiarity has eliminated any embarrassment at being around each other unclothed and they are merely laying together in companionable silence. She reaches across him and captures his left hand, pulling it across to rest on his chest. She traces her fingers along his, lingering on the new silver band circling his third finger. "Husband," she says wistfully.

"Wife?" he counters, wondering where she's going with this.

"It hardly seems real. A month ago you were tying me to chairs. Now we're married, expecting a baby, and…I'm so happy," she tells him, laying her head on his chest and squeezing him tight.

"Me too," he answers, returning her embrace.

"And hungry," she adds, suddenly sitting up.

"That's not some euphemism for wanting to go again, is it?" he asks hopefully, not wanting to leave the bed.

"Get dressed Spaceman, I need something to eat," she tells him as she steps across the room and digs into the small suitcase they'd brought, looking for some fresh underwear.

He groans at the idea of being made to move from the comfortable bed but, once he's standing, he acknowledges to himself that he needs to eat as well. They had burned a lot of energy in their recent activities and they both need to refuel. "We could order room-service," he suggests.

"No, I want to go out. We have to stay cooped up in the lair often enough as it is. I want to see the sky." She sits on the edge of the bed and begins putting on her undergarments.

"The room has a window," he observes, standing in front of said window and gazing out, "I can see the sky."

"Get away from there before someone sees you standing there without a stitch of clothes on!"

"It's still brighter outside than in the room," he argues, not moving at all, "And the glass is reflective on the outside. No one will be able to see me until it gets considerably darker out. Besides, we're 40 floors up. Who's going to be looking?" She tosses some clothes at his giant blue head. He catches them awkwardly and reluctantly begins to dress, "I'd rather stay here where we don't need disguises," he complains.

"Tough," she says, "I want to go somewhere I can get buffalo wings."

That statement puzzles him, "Buffalo don't have wings."

"They're not wings _from_ a buffalo, silly," she laughs at his ignorance and explains, "They're chicken wings drenched in buffalo _sauce_."

"Ah, so it's the sauce that's made from the buffalo?" he clarifies, zipping his jeans and buckling his belt.

"No, it's just a kind of spicy sauce. I think it's named buffalo because the recipe first came from Buffalo, New York. But I'm not actually sure," she shrugs, pulling a T-shirt over her head, "Doesn't matter. I know a place a few blocks from here we can get them."

"I'm not sure if I want spicy chicken wings," he says. He'd been raised on fairly bland prison food and, as a result, his tolerance for spicy foods is not very high. He sits at the desk chair and begins to slide on his custom baby seal leather boot, pulling the pant legs down over the tops.

"I know, sweetie, but it's a bar and grill. You can get something else, if you want. But I really want something spicy," she looks over at him pleading, "Come on, please? The baby wants buffalo wings."

"Fine," he agrees. How can he resist anything she requests when she's standing there in just a T-shirt and panties? "If the _baby_ wants wings…" He rolls his eyes melodramatically, not believing for a second that the baby wants any such thing. He stands and finds a button up shirt to wear.

"Thank you," she answers, crossing the few steps between them to reward him with an appreciative kiss on the lips.

While she's so close, his hand strays down to her bare leg in what she misidentifies as him taking advantage of an opportunity to feel some skin before she puts on her pants. Instead he grips her leg and he pulls it out from under her, causing her to crash onto the bed. He follows her down, pinning her playfully. "You don't think I'd let you win that easily, do you?" He proceeds to kiss and nuzzle her neck in a way he hopes will prove ticklish.

His efforts are rewarded as she giggles uncontrollably and struggles to get away. He tightens his grip and continues the torture until she finally gasps, "Stop it! Please! I give up. You win."

"Tell me how fantastic I am," he breathes into her ear.

"You are fantastically immature!" she tells him.

"Probably, but that's not what I want to hear," he tickles her some more, enjoying the way she squirms under him.

"You are fantastically evil," she accuses him.

"Yes," he agrees, taking pride in being called evil, even if a tickle attack is hardly evil on a level worthy of a supervillain, "Old habits die hard."

"You have a habit of tickling pregnant women into submission in hotel rooms?" she asks, keeping her face straight with an effort.

"No! That's not what I meant," he sputters, relaxing his grip on her arms in his distraction. "I would never take advantage of a… I mean I've never… It wouldn't have been appropriate… tickling is hardly suitably villainous… It's just… That's not what I meant and you know it," he finishes with a pout, no longer paying any attention to restraining his victim.

Instead of taking advantage of his inattention to escape his evil clutches, she lies there perfectly relaxed and meets his eyes, "I love you, Megamind. Can we go eat now? This won't be much fun if I faint from hunger first," she casts him a knowing eye, "I'll surrender to you later, if you want."

He smiles triumphantly and accepts that compromise, "Agreed!" Then he seals it with a quick kiss. He hops off the bed and holds out his hand to help her up, "Just wait until you see what evil plans I have for you later, my dear."

"Are they anything like what we were doing before we got dressed?" she asks, sure that it's more of the same he's planning.

"They bear a remarkable resemblance to that, yes," he answers truthfully.

"Predictable," she teases, "I'm looking forward to it."

They finish dressing, activate their disguises, and leave the room.

**Okay, this whole chapter doesn't really advance the plot much. Just fluff and smut. And a bit explaining how she has a disguise again. **

**Maybe something will happen to them on their way to get buffalo wings. You think? Would I mention it if it won't? I'm debating sending them to Hooters for their wings. What do you think? **

**I hope you liked it. This is my first attempt at truly M-rated material (okay, there was that one thing in Telepathic, but that barely counts) and I hope it came out okay. And yes, there are no tentacles in my AU. Sorry, everybody. But he's nearly identical to humans genetically, which means no tentacles. **

**Review. **


	28. The Taunting Power of Her Eyebrow

The most famous couple in the Metro City sits unrecognized under their disguises at the bar in the crowded Riki's Roadhouse Restaurant. The rustic-themed establishment is the closest place Roxanne knows of that offers what she considers 'decent' buffalo wings. They'd passed two other bar and grills on the way which she'd deemed subpar, even though their décor and atmosphere were more sophisticated.

This restaurant is so crowded that there is only room for them at the bar. Having so many people in such close proximity makes Megamind nervous. His hand keeps twitching toward where his de-gun is holstered underneath his disguise. Roxanne deliberately takes his gun-hand and squeezes it, silently reassuring him that everything is all right. The contact helps calm him, though he still doesn't care for the crowd and keeps glancing around nervously.

Several large-screen televisions hang from the ceiling arranged so that every diner in the bar area has an unobstructed view of at least one. Currently they're all tuned to a baseball game between the Metro City Metalworkers and the Kansas City Royals. The sound is turned up loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

The noise level is unpleasantly loud, making it difficult to carry on a conversation without shouting, which bothers Roxanne more than Megamind. He'd long ago acclimated himself to loud noises, both from his power tools and his favorite death metal music. He tunes it out as mere background noise. Roxanne fights the urge to put her hands over her ears as the crowd cheers the home team's triumphs and shouts insults at the umpires when they disagree with their calls. She endures the noise stoically because she was, after all, the one that had insisted they come here in the first place. It's the second half of the ninth inning. The game is nearly over. The score is tied.

Roxanne smiles as their waitress, an attractive woman in her late twenties with bottle-blonde hair and a tight T-shirt sporting the bar's logo, sets a full platter of buffalo wings in front of her. The wings, smothered in bright orange sauce, are accompanied by a few celery stalks and a small bowl of ranch dressing. Megamind looks at them dubiously, glad that he'd ordered a sensible hamburger instead.

Roxanne bites into the first one, closing her eyes in bliss as the spices hit her tongue, "Mmmm…" she says, "This is exactly what I wanted." She quickly strips the meat from the bone and begins on the next one.

Seeing how happy the food is making his wife, Megamind is glad they'd made the four block trek out here, even though his custom baby seal leather boots are not really made for walking. He starts on his burger and fries.

"Would you like to try one?" Roxanne asks him, holding out a wing dripping in hot sauce.

"No," he answers, mildly disgusted by the garishly colored wing, "I think I'll pass."

"Wuss," she teases him.

"Did you just call me a wuss?" he asks. He looks at her incredulously. He certainly doesn't think he's a wuss. He routinely faces down police with loaded guns and an angry Metro Man, often armed with nothing but a poorly-tested piece of malfunctioning evil technology. He'd brazenly stolen nuclear materials from right under the nose of the very authorities charged with preventing him from doing any such thing. He's held an entire _city_ in abject terror of him for years. He'd been a _supervillain_. And yet she calls him a wuss?

She slowly sucks the sauce off her fingers one by one, a process he thoroughly enjoys watching. Even though it's a stranger's mouth he's watching, something about her mannerisms and those beautiful blue eyes make her recognizable to him even under her disguise. "I just call 'em like I see 'em," she answers, refusing to let it go. "You're scared of _chicken_."

"You're probably the only person in the entire city who can get away with saying that to my face," he tells her with an indulgent smile.

She grins and eloquently raises a brow at him. He feels the taunting power of her eyebrow.

He accepts her challenge and takes a wing. He looks at it skeptically. The sauce really is an unnatural color. He takes a tiny bite, just to test the taste. It tastes fine. Pleasantly spicy, but not too hot. He takes a larger bite and soon finishes off the wing. As he licks the sauce from his fingers he realizes that the effects of the spices seem to be cumulative. What was delicious at one bite, is quickly becoming excruciating. It's strange how the burn is increasing even though he's no longer consuming more. He takes a gulp of his water, which does nothing to dull the heat. Underneath his disguise, his blue face has turned slightly purple, but no one can see it.

"Drink some milk," Roxanne suggests with a knowing smirk. Although she normally doesn't drink milk, she always orders it with hot wings. She's learned from past experience that neither water nor soft drinks do anything to wash away the heat when she's overdone it, but milk will. Still, it takes more than just one wing to produce enough discomfort to make her start gulping the stuff down.

Megamind's brain makes the connection. The capsaicin in the spices is what's causing the burn on his tongue. The casein in the milk allows the capsaicin to be washed away. Therefore, if he drinks milk, he will feel better. He grabs her glass and chugs most of it, leaving a white mustache on his top lip.

Roxanne giggles at him. Apparently, one chicken wing is all it takes to kick his butt. "You've got a milk mustache," she tells him. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, "Want another?" she asks evilly while dangling another wing over his plate.

"Uh. No."

Before she can continue teasing him, the bar erupts in cheers as the Metalworker's batter hits a ball into right field. It bounces before it's caught and is sent flying to home, but too late to prevent the player on third from sliding home. The ball is sent toward the third baseman, who manages to tag the runner approaching from second, thus ending the game with Metro City winning by one point. The spectators congratulate each other and finish the beers they've been nursing. People start paying their tabs and leaving the bar, intent on getting home early because they have to work the next morning. Within fifteen minutes the crowd is down to a mere handful of patrons. The wait staff begins to bus the tables and wipe things down.

Now that the crowd has thinned, the atmosphere is much more pleasant and casual. Many of the remaining diners are clearly regulars and chat freely with the pretty waitresses who flirt back, not because they are attracted to the men, but because they know it will earn them better tips. The men are mostly married and are only flirting for fun. They will be going home to their wives soon enough.

At the bar, Megamind and Roxanne are working on the last of their meals and considering the merits of ordering dessert.

The evening news follows the game and begins to run down the day's events. A news story catches one of the diner's eyes and he shouts out, "There's what I was saying earlier. They let that goddamn alien got hitched! What is this country coming to? First all these mixed race couples, then the gays, and now this! It's disgusting, that's what it is. Next thing you know, they'll let the fish get married!"

The news was showing clips of the press conference from earlier today. Megamind and Roxanne look up to watch themselves answering the reporter's questions. Megamind smirks when the screen shows him answering "I'm fantastic!" Roxanne rolls her eyes.

"Arrogant bastard!" the man who had first spoken up exclaims.

"Oh, I don't know, Ed," a waitress in her forties with short, straight red hair says diplomatically, "Maybe he is. I mean she did pick him over Metro Man. Makes me wonder what he's got under those tight leather pants." The woman positively leers at the screen.

Megamind chokes on his drink and Roxanne laughs silently at him as he recovers.

"Here, hon," the blonde waitress who had brought them their food says. She hands Megamind a few paper napkins to soak up the splatters of liquid on his clothing. She starts gathering dishes from an empty table next to the bar and talks to her fellow waitress as she works, "I heard he isn't even like a human at all," she says with no clue that the object of her gossip is actually sitting five feet away from her, trying valiantly to keep a straight face, "I read he's got, like, tentacles or something."

Roxanne giggles uncontrollably behind her hand and Megamind glares at her.

"Now, how is that even sexy? Him with some sort of squid between his legs? And how would he hide that under that tight leather?" asks the red-head behind the bar.

"I don't know. I guess it would be small tentacles? Or maybe it's, I dunno, stored internally?" the blonde flounders, "But that's what it said in _Megamind Uncovered_. It said that the chances of him being like a real man are pretty slim."

Megamind can't stand it anymore. Suggesting he isn't even really a man? That's insulting. "You shouldn't believe what you read in those unauthorized biographies," he says to the waitresses, "None of the authors of those things even bother to talk to him. It's pure speculation. Wrong speculation."

"And how can you be so sure it's wrong?" the blonde demands, annoyed at being challenged by someone she's sure doesn't know anything more about it than she does. Probably he knows less, in fact. _She'd_ at least read a book on the subject.

Roxanne worries that he's been caught, but Megamind answers calmly, "Logic. If they'd really done their research, their theories wouldn't vary so much. But those stories are all over the map. The only thing they agree on is that he's not human. If they're really curious about his anatomy, it shouldn't be too hard to find out. He lived in a _prison_ after all," he nearly spits the word in disgust, "Not like there's much privacy there. The guards have seen him naked."

"I suppose," agrees the blonde reluctantly. "Still, why would she choose his skinny ass over Metro Man?"

Megamind shrugs, not really sure why himself, just very glad she had. Roxanne reaches over to capture his hand and squeeze it. He looks over at her to find her smiling at him. "Maybe she likes intelligence over muscles," she suggests.

"Ooo-hoo. Sounds like your lady's got a Megamind crush," Ed teases Megamind, completely oblivious.

"I don't mind," answers Megamind confidently, knowing she has far more than just a _crush_, "She knows who she's going home with."

Ed somewhat drunk already, takes a pull from his beer and decides they've all drifted too far off-topic, "He's a goddamn space alien. It's sick for him to be sleeping with one of our women. He ought to go back where he came from and find some blue woman to fuck."

Megamind had heard similar things his whole life. That he should go back where he came from. That he was somehow subhuman. His very existence seemed to make humans uncomfortable. He is used to it and it barely fazes him anymore. Roxanne is not as blasé about it and glares at the ignorant drunk in a way that he, in his inebriated state, doesn't notice.

"I wonder if you'd be saying the same thing if she'd married Metro Man," Roxanne observes, "He's as much an alien as Megamind is."

"Yeah, but he's pretty much human, just with superpowers," asserts Ed incorrectly.

"Maybe Megamind's pretty much human, just with a big head and blue skin," she counters.

"At least Metro Man's not evil," Ed argues.

"You don't believe Megamind's given up being evil?" she asks, casually stealing a cold French fry from Megamind's plate.

"Maybe he has for now," he concedes, "but he'll come back to it. I told my ol' lady when I married her I'd give up drinkin'. And I did too. For awhile. And yet here I am," he raises his beer mug into the air as an illustration of how successful his pledge of sobriety had been.

The blonde takes up the argument, "What I want to know is what the hell Metro Man was doin' there? He sure wasn't doing his job. I hear he kept the cops back and he never arrested him at all. I can maybe see him letting them get through the ceremony out of courtesy, but he should have hauled him off afterwards. He's a convict. If she wants to see him, she's got to go for conjugal visit like the wives of any other prisoner."

"Are prisoners in solitary even allowed that?" the red-head asks. Everyone knows the prison has a special cell just for him.

"How the hell would I know?" the blonde asks, "You think Bill's ever been in prison?" Her husband had never gotten anything worse than a speeding ticket in his life, "If he had, I'm not sure I'd want to visit him like that anyway."

"You wouldn't have the option," says Megamind quietly, "Michigan doesn't allow conjugal visits."

"How do you know that?" the younger waitress asks.

"I served some time," he answers with a shrug, "I wasn't married then," he says, looking at Roxanne with a sad smile, "But many of the men were. After years behind bars, some of them would have literally killed for just one night alone with their wives," he shakes his head, "I knew a man named Al who was serving a 20-year sentence. He was a friend. He taught me to pick locks," Megamind didn't mention he'd been three at the time, "He used to tell me about his wife, Annie. He wrote to her almost every day and sometimes he'd read me her letters. She'd visit him nearly every week, but he was in the maximum security section. That means there was always a piece of glass between them. He hadn't so much as held her hand since he'd been sentenced. He died of a heart attack a month short of his release date."

"Oh, god, that's awful," says the red-haired waitress.

"Well, he shouldn't have broken the law," says the blonde unsympathetically, "Then he would have had almost twenty good years with her."

"Did you ever meet Megamind?" the red-head asks.

Roxanne bites her lower lip and watches him expectantly, wondering what he'll answer. He didn't answer directly. Instead he says, "Megamind hasn't been kept in the general population since before he turned eighteen. After that, he was always kept in a cell specially designed to contain him."

"Obviously something was wrong with _that_ design," Ed observes.

"Obviously," Megamind agrees before continuing, "The rest of the inmates only saw him when he was brought in. Or sometimes when he was on his way out," Megamind smirks at that and Roxanne kicks him under the bar. He straightens his face.

"So, you've seen him up close?" the red-head asks.

Megamind nods.

"And?" she prompts.

He shrugs and tells them what they already know, "He's blue and has a big head."

"Jason Miller! What the hell are you doing here? And who you got with you?" a woman yells from the aisle behind the barstools.

A few people look at her curiously, but no one answers her.

"I'm talking to you, you two-timing, low-down cheat!" the woman continues, grabbing Megamind by the shoulder and spinning him around on his barstool. She slaps him hard across the face.

"Ow," Megamind says, rubbing his cheek and looking confused. He'd never seen this woman before in his life.

"I thought you were out of town visiting your sister. She don't look like your sister to me," she rants, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes.

"Madam, I assure you, you have the wrong person," Megamind protests. This is one of the problems with scanning real people into the disguise generator. It saves on having to program every single detail of a fictitious person by hand, but it can become awkward if someone 'recognizes' the disguise that's generated. Perhaps he can simply convince her that this is a case of mistaken identity. "My name is Stephen York, and this is my wife Denise." He makes up Roxanne's fake name on the spot, not having prepared one beforehand. It isn't like this woman is going to demand to see an ID.

"Like hell she is, Jason! Who am I then? You can't have two of us," she clenches her hands into fists and resists the impulse to hit him again.

"I have never seen you before in my life," he says calmly, "You obviously have me mistaken for someone else," he continues, his hopes of convincing her fading by the second.

"Oh, you don't think I know my own husband when I see him?" the angry woman turns to Roxanne with an annoyed, but not hostile expression. Obviously she regards 'Jason' as the bad guy here and Roxanne as a victim as much as she is, "What did he tell you honey? You know he's got two kids with me already?"

While Roxanne stammers awkward placations, Megamind instantly calculates the cost of their meal, taxes, and a standard tip. He taps his watch to temporarily make his disguise merely a visual hologram so he can reach underneath it and into a pocket to retrieve his wallet. He lays thirty dollars on the bar, returns his wallet to his pocket, and reactivates the tactile portion of the hard-light projection before anyone notices anything out of the ordinary.

Jason's wife glares at the bills on the counter and says, "Jason, I can't believe you have the gall to spend _our_ hard-earned money screwing around behind my back. No wonder we never have any money in the bank if this is how you're spending it. How long has this been going on, anyway?"

"Madam, you have no claim to my money because you are _not_ my wife. We are leaving now. If you want to discuss this privately, you are welcome to follow us outside, where there are fewer," he looks pointedly around the room, "gawkers. Perhaps I can offer you a more satisfactory explanation there." Taking Roxanne's hand he leads her out the door, feeling all eyes in the restaurant on his back as he does so. Mrs. Miller stomps after them ready for a fight.

As soon as the door closes behind them, the other patrons scramble to the side of the restaurant to watch the trio through the window, hoping to witness a fight and telling themselves they're only watching out for the two women's safety. They're all certain that Mr. Miller deserves what's coming to him. What else would you expect from an ex-con? They wonder if they'll see a cat fight.

Mr. York/Miller leads both his 'wives' toward a dark corner of the parking lot that isn't visible from the road, and only barely visible from the windows of the restaurant. The watchers gasp as the man and the woman he called Denise touch their wrists and their bodies flash blue. As the light fades, an entirely different couple stands in the shadows. One of them has blue skin and an oversized bald head. Mrs. Miller stumbles backward in shock and they both put out their hands in calming gestures. She appears to listen and nods at what they tell her. Occasionally she says a few words. Eventually she turns around and shuffles back to the bar in a daze.

As the woman enters the bar again, she is confronted with the amazed eyes of everyone in the building, all clustered around one window in the back of the restaurant. "That," she points outside to the parking lot, "Was not my husband," she states. She plops herself down on a barstool and says, "I need a beer." She really looks like she does.

"Sure," says the red-haired waitress who has stepped behind the bar, "On the house."

Ed watches, with a clenched jaw as Roxanne Ritchi (or is she Roxanne Megamind now?) turns to her husband and leans her forehead against his. They stand that way for a moment, discussing something. Then they laugh and reactivate their disguises before joining hands and walking away from Riki's Roadhouse down the sidewalk. Ed considers calling the police, but decides they probably wouldn't believe him. Besides, he didn't want to risk making Megamind angry. Despite his announcement today, Ed considers him a supervillain until proven otherwise and definitely a dangerous man to cross. He is right on one count, at least.

**So, I decided not to send them to Hooters. Mostly because I haven't been in there and I didn't want to get the details wrong. I made up Riki's Roadhouse Restaurant. If there's another restaurant by that name, it's only a coincidence. **

**I think I got the baseball thing right, but to tell the truth, I haven't watched a baseball game since I was a kid. So, I had to actually look up the rules. I think I got it right. **

**Review please. **


	29. A Hero

The night is clear and warm. A full moon shines in the black sky. No stars can be seen, but the lights of the city sparkle beautifully. Roxanne loves the city at night. She pulls Megamind's arm around her waist as they walk along the sidewalk. It is late and, aside from the occasional passing car, they have the street to themselves. Distantly they hear a police siren on another block. Megamind tenses at the sound, but relaxes when it fades into the distance.

Roxanne feels safe in Megamind's company, but he knows to be cautious. At this time of night, the streets are not entirely safe. No criminal would dare attack Megamind, but wearing the face of Jason Miller, he's considerably less intimidating. He keeps the both of them out of the shadows and away from dark allies, glad that they're only a mile or so from their hotel and the street is well-lit.

Just as they pass the mouth of a suspicious alley, a scream pierces the air and is immediately muffled.

Megamind narrows his eyes, "Shhh… Stay here," he tells her. He touches his wrist to deactivate his disguise. Its fine for most activities, but the spacial distortion field throws off his balance a little. His head's too small and he's six inches taller than normal. In a fight, he needs his body to move the way he's used to. He suspects he's about to get into a fight.

His hand is poised over his de-gun, but he doesn't draw it. In a dark alley, the glow of its barrel will give away his location. He disappears into the shadows of the alley. Roxanne waits a moment before following him.

Megamind paces silently through the dark. He hears sounds of a struggle ahead and then a short shriek. He hurries his pace. As he rounds a dumpster he finds what he feared he would. A man has a woman pinned over a low wall. He's too late. The man is already grunting and thrusting into her from behind. He has a knife in one hand, pressed against her throat. The other hand holds her arms behind her, keeping her controlled. She whimpers, tears streaming down her face as he violates her body. The man is not paying attention to anything except his victim and his own pleasure.

The rapist and victim are both surprised when the man is pulled roughly from her back and thrown to the ground. The man recovers his wits quickly and finds his feet. He turns to see who'd interrupted his fun and is surprised to recognize Megamind standing there, furious and aiming a glowing gun directly at his chest.

"What the hell?" he swears, raising his hands in surrender, "Why'd you stop me? You're no hero!"

In answer, Megamind shoots him. He's not going to waste perfectly good banter on the likes of him. A blue cube clatters to the pavement. He holsters his weapon and approaches the woman.

She'd slid down the wall to the ground and is hugging her knees to her chest. She hadn't had the presence of mind yet to even pull up her pants. She trembles there staring wide-eyed at the man she'd first thought was her rescuer. But when she had recognized that it was Megamind, she was sure her situation had just gotten worse, not better. Who knows what the villain wants with her. Does he rape women? She wasn't sure. What would the alien do to her? Would he harvest her organs for sale on the black market? Remove her brain and turn her into one of his brainbots? Do horrible experiments on her? A dozen horrible scenarios flew through her mind, all making a simple rape seem by far the best she could hope for.

Megamind approaches her slowly, his hands out and open in the universal gesture of _I mean you no harm_. Seeing him coming toward her inspires her to fresh bouts of screaming and she doesn't even hear his voice trying to calm her.

He feels gentle hands on his shoulders and he turns to find Roxanne, no longer disguised, standing behind him. "I thought I told you to keep back," he tells her.

"And you thought I'd obey?" she asks. She walks around him and to the injured woman. She speaks softly as she approaches. The woman stops screaming and begins to hear what Roxanne is saying. When it finally dawns on her that she's been rescued, she throws her arms around Roxanne and sobs hysterically into her shoulder. Megamind watches the two women. He realizes that the victim is younger than he'd thought. She couldn't be older than fifteen. He clenches his jaw and decides to have one of the brainbots drop the cube in the very center of Lake Michigan. Just as he's pondering that, a white flash enters the alley and a confused Metro Man is standing beside him.

"Little late," Megamind accuses him.

"What happened?" he asks, ignoring the criticism.

Megamind sighs and picks up the cube. He reluctantly tosses it to the hero who catches it with ease. "Rapist," he says, "I caught him in the act and pulled him off… But it was too late."

Metro Man pales and then clenches his jaw. It's an effort not to crush the cube.

Roxanne gets the girl back on her feet and helps dress her again. She seems numb, hardly noticing what's going on. "Take her to the hospital, Wayne. Make sure they do a rape kit and it's reported to the police. I'm not sure how old she is, but she has to be underage. Make sure charges are pressed. Let them know I'll testify for her."

Megamind surprises everyone when he adds, "I will too."

Metro Man nods and gathers the girl up in his arms. Megamind and Roxanne watch him fly out of the alley before hurrying out also.

When they reach the sidewalk Megamind asks, "Do you want to go back to the hotel, or would you rather go home?"

"We have to go back to get our stuff, at least," she answers, "But I'm not really in the mood for celebrating anymore."

He nods, completely understanding. They flip on their disguises and walk in silence most of the way back.

"Megamind?" she asks when there nearly there.

"Yes?"

"I'm really proud of you," she says, "You were a real hero back there."

"A hero would have got there soon enough to stop him," he answers bitterly.

She squeezes his hand silently, not knowing what to tell him. She knows Wayne feels the same way sometimes and she'd never figured out what to say to him either. It's hard to be a hero.

**Two chapters today? Don't get used to it people! I do have one more chapter to put up soon. Maybe tonight? Cross those fingers! **

**Review, please. I'm terribly insecure. **


	30. Reactions Are Mixed

June 9, 2009

As on most days in Metro City, there is a column in the Metro City Monitor dedicated to wedding announcements. Today one of the announcements is of particular note to the citizens of the city. At the top of the column is an image of Megamind and Roxanne Ritchi standing next to each other and smiling for the camera. Under the picture is printed _Mr. and Mrs. Megamind_ and beneath that runs the following text:

_Roxanne Ritchi, Megamind_

_Roxanne Renee Ritchi and Megamind were married June 8, 2009 at the Metro City Courthouse. Judge Amanda Fergusson performed the double-ring ceremony. The bride is the daughter of Richard and Sandra Ritchi of Metro City, MI. The groom is the son of Overlord Bortiln and Queen Mekla of the House of Galroict of the planet Vilnsit. The bride was presented in marriage by Wayne Scott of Metro City in the place of her late father. Minion of Metro City was the Best Fish. The bride is a reporter at KMCP Channel 8. The groom is a recently retired supervillain. He is planning to open a business selling advanced technology. The newlyweds reside at a secret location in Metro City, MI. _

Reactions to this announcement are mixed.

Most citizens of Metro City are not surprised at all, having been subjected to nearly non-stop summaries of and commentaries on yesterday's news conference. The coverage continued most of the day Tuesday as well, until a suspicious gas explosion and subsequent fire on the west side of town takes the attention of the local media away from the happy newlyweds.

A digital version of the announcement is sent by email between interested parties around the world.

Megamind's credit is revoked at an online outlet store in Romania which caters to villains and had been his primary source of Tesla coils and blinky dials.

His lifetime membership in the Alliance of Evil is put on hold pending review. The review committee sends Megamind an email citing his reported retirement and asking if he is releasing his claim on the territory of Metro City. They understand that his retirement may be merely a ruse to lull the citizens and their protector into a false sense of security. However, they ask him to please clarify his status for the Alliance's internal records.

The director of a secret government research lab hidden somewhere in Montana notes the marriage and considers the implications if a hybrid is conceived. He sends orders to his underlings to research the new Mrs. Megamind and learn her schedule and habits. Thirty-three years ago, the director, merely a research scientist at the time, was denied the opportunity to study the young extraterrestrial, citing ethical concerns. He is determined not to let the opportunity slip through his fingers a second time.

A scientist working for the SETI Institute notes the information on Megamind's parents and his planet of origin. He Googles KMCP channel 8 and looks through the station's website for Roxanne Ritchi's contact information. He composes and sends both a letter and an email asking if she could arrange a meeting or phone conversation with her husband. He's wanted to speak to Megamind for years, but the villain had never responded to the inquiries he'd sent to the prison. As one of only three reliably confirmed alien life forms currently living on Earth, the man is eager to learn whatever he can about Megamind's planet of origin and its people. He had contacted Wayne Scott before but had been disappointed that the man knew nothing of his home world other than the fact that it wasn't Earth. He hoped Megamind could provide more insight than the superhero could. Perhaps he even knew which star he came from.

Bernard Harris also sends an email to Roxanne asking if she could arrange a meeting between him and Megamind. He is starting a new book on the villain and hopes it will become the definitive work on his life and crimes. Mr. Harris is widely regarded as the expert on all things Megamind and makes a solid living off his unauthorized biographies of various supervillains around the country. He is aware that there is only so far he can go with unfounded speculation and hopes that the megalomaniacal blue alien will jump at the opportunity to set the record straight about his life.

A representative from Random House Publishing Group sends an inquiry by mail to Roxanne. They are interested in negotiating a book deal with Megamind and would appreciate it if she'd pass their request along to him. They are offering a generous advance.

Hal Stewart rips his newspaper in half and stomps on it before kicking it into the trash can. He hadn't even meant to look at the marriage announcements, but had turned to it accidentally when trying to find the page with the comic strips. He'd done something similarly destructive to his television set the evening before when he'd found every station to be running nothing but stories about Roxanne's marriage to that freak. The set now lies in ruin by his door waiting for him to get around to carrying it down to the dumpster in the parking lot. He plops himself down in front of his computer and searches for a bulletin board or chat room where he can rant to a sympathetic community about his hatred of Megamind. God damn alien! It's all _his_ fault that he's out of a job! To make things worse, word has spread about why he'd lost his job and none of the other local stations want to hire him because of it. He swears that someday he'll find a way to pay that little blue freak back with interest!

The announcement is added to the website of several white supremacist organizations as further proof of how the country is going to hell.

Warden William Laird buys out the nearest newsstand and hands out copies of the paper to all the guards as well as the few inmates still around from Megamind's boyhood. As for his copy, the Warden carefully cuts out the announcement and puts it in an inexpensive document frame before hanging it on the wall next to an old photograph of Megamind as a boy. He wishes Megamind had thought to invite him to the ceremony. It was something he'd have liked to have seen. He reminds himself to ask his wife to pick out something suitable for a wedding gift.

PsychoDellic and Hot Flash meet in an empty office building and argue whether Megamind is serious about his retirement. In the end Hot Flash throws a pink fire ball at the paper and storms out, muttering something about arson and gas pipes.

Wayne Scott clips the announcement and stares at it awhile. He wishes he knew his own parents names. He doesn't even know what planet he comes from. In a fit of melancholy, the hero begins to write something that turns quickly into a requiem for his lost past. Frustrated with his black mood, he throws his notepad down and flies out of his home to patrol in the bright sunlight, hoping that will lift his mood.

Sandra Ritchi places the clipping carefully in a scrapbook. Tears come to her eyes as she smoothes the finger along the photograph. She thinks Roxanne looks happy and Megamind… she recognizes that expression. She glances across the room at where an old photograph hangs in an ornate frame. In it a younger Sandra Ritchi stands with her new husband. Richard Ritchi is smiling at the camera with a curious mixture of love and pride. It's the very same expression that's on the blue man's face in the clipping.

Detective Peter Bell glares at the announcement. The son of an Overlord and a Queen? Yeah, right. Next thing he'll be claiming diplomatic immunity for all his crimes as a representative of the planet Vilnsit. He doesn't believe it. Vilnsit? It doesn't even sound like a planet. He rips the announcement from the paper and adds it to the alarmingly small stack of evidence in the folder labeled Ritchi, Roxanne. Reluctantly, he crosses out Ritchi and writes Megamind above it.

Minion clips the announcement from the paper and adds it to a scrapbook. Fish don't cry, but his lip trembles as his robotic hands position the clipping. His charge is grown and mated. He's so proud of him.

A woman known as Lady Doppler reads the mention of Megamind's retirement and smiles. She'd always liked Metro City. She thinks the Viln man had always taken the wrong approach to its conquest, but it wasn't really his fault. Ruling _that_ city will take a woman's touch. Given time and patience, she is sure she can bend its protector to her will. After all, there's a fine line between a protector and a king. Or, for that matter, between a glaupunk and a god.


	31. Judge Amanda Fergusson

**Okay, this chapter backtracks a bit. I need to introduce a character and explain her feelings toward Megamind and Roxanne. **

**And we have a court case to deal with. **

Amanda Fergusson had served as a judge in Michigan for 23 years. The first four were in Ann Arbor, and the rest were here in Metro City. Although it was fairly small for a metropolitan area, Metro City had all the vices and virtues of any major city in the country. It possessed a full range of criminal enterprises from muggings and murder to drugs and embezzlement. It was even home to a space alien supervillain, something positively unique as far as Judge Fergusson was aware.

In fact, Judge Fergusson was quite familiar with the blue extraterrestrial, as were all the judges in the city. He was generally in court on arraignment twice a month, unless he'd managed to escape custody beforehand. He always proudly proclaimed himself guilty, pleased with each count against him. He never flinched at any sentence given to him, deeming it something of an acknowledgement of his criminal prowess. It was a way to keep score, nothing more. Why should he take any sentence seriously when the justice system was incapable of enforcing its rulings? She'd given up on trying to use creative sentencing or rehabilitation services to try to reform him. Instead she'd long since resorted to merely heaping meaningless maximum sentences on him and hoping he'd actually stay behind bars for more than a week. She'd concluded that he was a villain, he'd always be a villain, and he'd never change.

Which was why she was so surprised when Wayne Scott called in a personal favor to have her perform a marriage ceremony for the villain and his fiancé on Monday afternoon. It had required waiving the 3-day waiting period and keeping her secretary in the dark on what was going on. But since it was Metro Man making the request, she didn't hesitate to bend the rules. Despite her willingness to help the superhero, she was confused as to why he would to go to such an effort for the man who'd been plaguing him and the city for years. She expected any marriage involving a supervillain would be doomed from the start.

When Megamind and Roxanne Ritchi walked into her courtroom, she didn't see what she expected. She was ready for the villain to be his usual smug and infuriating self and for his bride to be like so many women that chose to marry infamous criminals: attracted to the danger and excitement rather than the man himself. But what she saw was completely different.

There was no trace of the snide, angry Megamind she was so used to seeing. Instead the man who stood before her was respectful and nervous, but determined to wed his Roxanne and willing to face down anyone who tried to stop him. He held her to him with a possessive pride that would have been worrisome if not for the way his face broke into a contented smile every time he met her eyes. There was nothing at all evil about _this_ Megamind. He was clearly a man in love who knew exactly what he had. He looked genuinely happy. It was as if this broken man had finally been healed.

And Roxanne herself was not unremarkable. She stood beside the strange blue man completely at her ease, accepting him as he was and making no apologies for it. Judge Fergusson thought Roxanne was going into this with her eyes wide open. She saw strength and determination in the brunette's bearing, something she would no doubt need. And love. She was clearly every bit as committed to the blue alien as he was to her.

Judge Fergusson spoke to the couple briefly, as she always did before performing a marriage. She determined to her own satisfaction that they were both sober and uncoerced.

She was surprised to learn they'd only been together for a month, though Megamind was quick to point out that they'd known each other for years. Their haste concerned her and she questioned them further. Rather than evade her questions, they consulted each other with silent looks before confessing that Roxanne was pregnant.

"Shot gun wedding?" asked the judge, directing the question mostly at Metro Man. She thought that might explain his involvement.

Metro Man shook his head and said, "It wasn't necessary. He intended to do the right thing by her from the beginning." The judge wondered if Metro Man would have forced the villain if he hadn't been so inclined on his own.

She thought it was admirable of Megamind to step up and take care of his responsibilities. It wasn't what she expected of him. Many villains lure women into their beds only to leave them to fend for themselves once they got what they wanted. She wondered how he planned to take care of his family. "Supervillain isn't a good career for a family man," she observed.

"I know," Megamind agreed, "That's why I decided to retire."

"Really?" asked the judge, an eyebrow arched in disbelief, "You're going to stop terrorizing the city?"

"Yes," he answered. He felt her skepticism. "Really," he insisted, "I'm a changed man. I'm ready to re-enter society as a solid citizen."

"Is he?" she asked the rest of the room. Everyone nodded except Metro Man, who shrugged noncommittally. He thought Megamind _probably_ intended to give up villainy, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd lied. He was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. For Roxanne's sake.

The judge leaned forward over the bench and asked Megamind conspiratorially, "Will you be serving your sentence then?"

"Do you honestly expect me to?" he asked with a grin.

"You've caused a lot of damage. Hurt people. Even killed people," the judge told him, "You can't get away from that so easily."

He sighed and lost the smirk. Candidly, he asked, "What would benefit Metrocity more? If I were to sit idly in my cell, leaving my family unprotected and making the taxpayers cover my significant room and board expenses? Or would it be better if I used this giant brain of mine to do something productive? I intend to invent useful things and earn an honest living. I'm hoping it might even be enough to purchase my freedom."

"Purchase? Are you planning to bribe way out of prison?"

"No. If I obtain my freedom illegally, it can too easily be taken away again," he answered, "I've been either behind bars or in hiding since I was eight days old. I'm tired of it. I wasn't sent here to be a prisoner. I'm hoping that if I can do enough good with my inventions, I can earn a pardon for my crimes."

"And if you can't?"

"Then we'll find another country that is more appreciative of my genius," he answered, "One that won't extradite."

As a judge she couldn't condone his disregard for the court's rulings, but she admitted to herself that he had a point. If only he'd use his genius for good and not evil, what an impact he could make on the world. She made a mental note to speak to the mayor and the Prosecuting Attorney about alternative sentencing for him. Perhaps some sort of parole could be arranged if his work proves as beneficial as he boasted. Obviously, imprisoning him was ineffective.

"And you're sure you want to marry a man with this sort of legal problems?" she asked Roxanne, "Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you have to. It's not going to change the charges you're already facing."

Roxanne took Megamind's hand in hers and squeezed it. "I'm sure," she said.

"Alright," the judge said, "Let's begin." Since it was what they both wanted and she saw no legal reason to deny it, she proceeded with the ceremony.

Performing a marriage was always a gratifying experience for Judge Fergusson. It reminded her of the happier, normal side of life in Metro City that she otherwise tended to lose sight of. So much of her day was consumed by dealing with criminals and victims that she welcomed the special and yet mundane task of joining a couple in marriage. It renewed her faith in the people of the city, that they were still capable of love and commitment. In her own small way, she was able to help make a dream come true for each happy couple she joined together.

Over the years she had come to think she was pretty good at predicting which couples would last and which she'd see in divorce court a few years (or even months) later. It was hard to say what it was that told her if a marriage would work out. She thought it was something subtle about the way the couple interacted with each other. Some people seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and some didn't. Something told her, despite all the challenges they were bound to face, that Roxanne and Megamind would have one of the marriages that lasted.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Judge Fergusson was in court directly after performing the marriage, so she didn't get to see the press conference either in person or live on TV. Instead she watched some of the endless summaries and commentaries that were aired the rest of the day. Her secretary had taken messages from dozens of reporters who wanted to interview her about the ceremony. They wanted to know all sorts of ridiculous things, such as if the bride was tied up, if Megamind had worn spikes, if Metro Man had turned rogue to keep the police from arresting Megamind, or if they'd used some weird alien ceremony. She issued a statement.

_Today at approximately 1:30 in the afternoon, I performed a ceremony joining Roxanne Ritchi and Megamind in marriage. In attendance were the bride's attorney, Metro Man, and Minion. The vows used were those for a standard civil ceremony with two rings being exchanged. Since Megamind has a history of abducting his bride and some people have expressed concern about her, I would like state clearly that both parties entered into this marriage willingly. I wish the newlyweds happiness in their new life together. _

0o0o0o0o0o0

Roxanne Megamind walks into court beside her attorney. They take their places at the defendant's table. Next to them at the prosecutor's table sits the Prosecuting Attorney and one of the lawyers from his office. The lawyers nod to each other in polite greeting but exchange no words. The prosecutors are holding a grudge. Because Megamind got away from them again, they are determined to pin anything they can on his wife. They know that, however many times they convict him, they're always empty victories. They know they can't really touch him. They're going to do their best to touch her.

The bailiff walks out and announces, "All rise for the honorable Judge Amanda Fergusson." Everyone in the room stands up respectfully as the Judge walks up to her bench and sits.

"You may be seated," she tells the room. She smiles at Roxanne. "I hope married life is treating you well, Mrs. Megamind," the judge tells her.

"Yes, your honor," she answers, still standing while she addresses the judge. There's a heartfelt smile on her face, as one might expect from any new wife. "Megamind asked me to tell you again how much he appreciated you fitting us in at the last minute like that. It really meant a lot to both of us."

The prosecutors glare at her as she chats with the judge. That's all they need, for the judge to be in _her_ pocket.

"Oh, it was my pleasure. He's not here today, is he?" the judge asks. Apparently, there's no way to tell. If he is in disguise, he'd be indistinguishable from any other spectator in the courtroom today.

"No, your honor," Roxanne answers honestly. She doesn't bother to explain why her husband would choose not to appear in court with her. It is obvious to everyone. He'd told Roxanne he'll take the stand if it goes to trial, but he doesn't want to get arrested for showing his face at a mere pre-trial hearing. "As far as I know he's at home dismantling a giant robot."

"I heard you had some unexpected excitement Monday evening," the judge continues. Everyone at the jail had been amazed when Metro Man dropped off a glowing blue cube Monday night and insisted that it was a rapist that Megamind had apprehended. Judge Furgussen had heard that when the man was rehydrated, his pants were open and his privates were exposed and still half erect. There was really no doubt in anyone's mind as to his guilt, but the idea that _Megamind_ had captured him was still hard to swallow. "Did Megamind really rescue a girl from a rapist?"

"Yes, your honor… unfortunately, not quite in time though," she answers. He hadn't wanted to talk about it, or much of anything, the rest of the night. Instead, once they'd gone to bed, he'd just wrapped himself around Roxanne and clung to her tightly for at least an hour until he'd finally fallen asleep. "He was really pretty upset with himself that he hadn't gotten there sooner."

"Still, that's quite the hero," she observes. Conversation buzzes among the spectators in the back of the room in response to the judge's comment.

Roxanne smiles proudly, "Yes, your honor. I'm very proud of him."

"So am I," The judge studies her for a moment before getting back to the matter at hand. "Well, then. On to less pleasant things. She places her glasses on her face and scans through the paperwork in front of her, "Today is the preliminary hearing for Metro City versus Ritchi. We are here to determine if there is probable cause to pursue a trial in this case. The prosecution may begin."

The prosecutor makes a brief opening remark to the effect that she is guilty and they are going to prove it. Then they call Metro Man to the stand.

"Hey, Roxy," he greets her with a grin as he makes his way to the witness box. The prosecutor winces. Is the woman friends with everyone? Metro Man testifies that he was not present in Roxanne's apartment at any time during the night Megamind allegedly impersonated him. On cross-examination, the defense uses him as a character witness and he tells the court that he believes Roxanne is an honest, law-abiding citizen and a good person. On the way out, he says to her in a voice pitched loud enough to be overheard, "Say hey to the little guy for me, okay? And tell him he might have saved that girl's life. It looks like her rapist is responsible for two other teenage girls going missing in the last three months. Megamind might have stopped a serial killer." He smiles slightly at the sudden whispers from the audience. He's sure there's at least one or two reporters back there today and he hopes Megamind will make the papers because of it.

"I will," Roxanne answers, "Thanks."

After that, the defense reads seven different witness statements that place Megamind's hoverbike outside of Roxanne's balcony at the time the impersonation occurred. The officers who were present testify that Roxanne was in the apartment at the time but admit that they didn't see her do anything besides open the door when they knocked. There is no evidence that she did anything to help in the impersonation and being merely present when a crime is committed is not enough to convict one of the crime.

"Unless you have further evidence, I think we can dismiss the accessory to impersonation charge," the judge decides. The prosecution reluctantly agrees and moves on to the next charge: accessory to assault with a deadly weapon.

They introduce the replica of Roxanne's watch, which they still think is the original, as evidence. They also read 14 witness statements from people, some of them minors, who were present in the park at the time of the incident. Most of them describe the water gun incident that shorted out the disguise generators. They all state that Megamind drew his weapon on the crowd.

Roxanne's attorney reads one witness statement saying, among other things, that the witness thinks Megamind drew his weapon because two large men were approaching him in a threatening manner. Then Mr. Roberts calls a witness to the stand who can testify on nearly the entire incident.

Mrs. Matilda Cunningham is sixty-eight years old and sharp as a tack. On the day in question, she'd been sitting at a nearby picnic table watching her grandsons play Frisbee. "I first noticed them after the ice cream truck pulled up. Of course, they didn't look like them at the time. They just looked like a couple of lovebirds taking a walk in the park. They was so happy together. Anyway, she took him by the hand and dragged him, all excited-like, over to the truck and they stood in line waiting for their turn. I remember he pulled her up in front of him so he could put his arms around her. It kind of reminded me of the way me and my Albert, God rest his soul, was before we got married." The woman smiles at the memory before continuing her story, "I saw those troublemakers with the water guns come up and I says to myself, 'Those boys are going to get themselves in trouble.' They'd been shooting each other for the last half an hour and they'd already hit some other people who weren't in their game, including one of my grandsons. So one of them was chasing the other around the crowd and shot his water gun, hitting her right in the stomach and making their normal-people disguises disappear. Well, that was a surprise for everyone, I guess. The crowd sure didn't expect Megamind to appear in the middle of the park and I don't think either of them two expected to be exposed like that. Everybody kind of froze for a couple of seconds. Her and Megamind hadn't done anything, but with all those kids around, their parents started getting scared. It might of been alright if those two big guys hadn't started edging towards them like a couple of bullies in a schoolyard. That spooked Megamind enough to make him draw that gun of his and order everybody to get back. Then they run off in the woods. But the po-lice got there so quick they couldn't get away. I didn't see much of what happened after the crowd scattered. I got me and my grandsons clear of there as quick as I could."

"So, to be clear," Roxanne's lawyer asks, "Would you say that Megamind acted in self-defense when he drew his weapon?"

"That's what it looked like to me," she agrees.

"Did Mrs. Megamind have anything to do with Megamind drawing his weapon?" he continues.

"I don't know. Not that I saw, but we pretty much took off when he told us all to 'back off,' so I couldn't say for sure."

"Thank you Mrs. Cunningham," he says, "No further questions."

The prosecution calls the bike officer that had called in the incident, but he can't provide any more detailed testimony than Mrs. Cunningham already had. He hadn't noticed any men sneaking up on Megamind, but acknowledges that they may have. He also didn't see anything to make him think that Roxanne had anything to do with Megamind drawing his gun.

In fact, the prosecution fails to present any solid evidence to indicate that the incident was planned in any way or that Roxanne had anything to do with Megamind drawing his weapon. Mrs. Cunningham's testimony and the defense's one witness statement even support the argument that Megamind had been acting in self defense.

"If that is all you have, I think we can drop accessory to assault with a deadly weapon as well," rules Judge Fergusson.

After a few more minutes of statements and testimony, the rest of the charges are likewise dismissed due to lack of evidence and Roxanne is officially free to go.

As Roxanne and Mr. Richards pack up their things, Judge Fergusson catches the Prosecuting Attorney's eye and says, "Ray, can I see you in my chambers?"

"Yes, your honor," he answers. He grabs his things and follows her through a door in the back of the courtroom.

The judge seats herself behind an imposing desk and waits for her guest to seat himself in one of the two chairs sitting in front of it.

Once he's seated, she says, "That was a waste of time in there. You knew perfectly well you didn't have any evidence to try her on any of those charges."

Raymond Key shrugs and answers, "It was worth a try."

Judge Fergusson stares at him for a moment, clearly disagreeing. "You were just going after her because you can't touch Megamind."

He clenches his jaw, but doesn't disagree.

"I think it's time we start figuring out what to do with him. Sentencing him to life behind bars isn't effective and it makes the whole justice system look like a joke. We can't enforce out own rulings when it comes to him."

"What do you suggest?" he asks, "Let him walk all over us?"

"Isn't that what he's already doing?" she smiles humorlessly, "What if he really has turned over a new leaf? If he doesn't pose a threat to the city, are we really obligated to keep him locked up?"

"He's killed people."

"Only by accident. I looked through his case files this week, all the way back to the first time he was charged as an adult. He's never actually hurt or killed anyone intentionally. It's always been the result of an accident or someone being where they weren't supposed to be. A couple times it was clearly self-defense. Most of his crimes just amount to large-scale theft and property damage."

"Don't forget attempted murder and kidnapping."

"The man he attempted to kill is the next thing to immortal. I don't think that's quite the same thing. And he just married his kidnappee, so I think it's safe to say she's forgiven him for that." She pauses for a moment and runs her fingers through her short grey hair. "Ray, he really did rescue a girl from a rapist on Monday night. He didn't have to, but he did. And his brainbots have been patrolling the city all week and alerted Metro Man to twenty-three violent street crimes that he wouldn't have known about otherwise. And this isn't the first time, either. He may have been keeping the other criminals on a short leash for years."

"How do you know that?" Ray asks her.

"Metro Man came to talk to me about it yesterday. He doesn't think Megamind belongs behind bars anymore, even if we could keep him there. He flat-out refuses to capture him anymore. In fact, he told me that if we arrest him again, he'll break him out himself."

"Is he turning rogue?" Ray asks with alarm, "Do we need to call in the ASCA?" The Alien and Superhuman Control Agency is in charge of studying, monitoring, and policing both humans and extraterrestrials with superhuman abilities anywhere on the planet. Because they're an international organization, local and national authorities generally resent their interference. They don't like to call them in unless they absolutely have to. This is fine with the ASCA because it means they aren't bogged down dealing with everyday supervillain battles that the local protectors should be handling. They're mostly only called in if a supervillain actually manages to take over a city or if a particularly powerful protector goes rogue. Even then, usually the national authorities try to handle the situation on their own first. The ASCA keeps a low profile and mostly devotes itself to the research and development of ways to negate and control the powers of the planet's supers. Like many of the supers it tracks, officially the ASCA doesn't even exist.

"Oh, no. Nothing like that," Judge Fergusson insists, "He just doesn't approve of how we're handling Megamind. And I think I agree with him. You have to admit that sentencing an escape artist to time behind bars is a particularly ineffective approach."

"So, what does he want us to do instead?" the man asks.

"You're not going to believe me, but he wants Megamind to help him protect the city."

"What? He wants Megamind to be a _protector_?"

"That's what he said," she confirms.

"Why?"

"Metro Man wants help. I think he's burning out. Most protectors for a city this size at least have a sidekick. Lots of them have a whole support team. Look at it from his perspective. He's been handling the job alone since he turned eighteen. He feels trapped. Even if Megamind can't be convinced, I think we need to look into getting Metro Man some help."

"God, can you imagine if Metro Man got disgruntled and went postal?" They are both silent for moment, as the possibility sinks in. "Do you think Megamind will do it?" he asks. Somehow, he can't picture Megamind in white.

"I don't know. Metro Man thinks he can be convinced," she smiles deviously, "Especially if it's a condition of his parole."

"I think we need to talk to the mayor and the other judges," he tells her, "Maybe even the governor."

She agrees and they make plans for who needs to be involved in the meeting.

**The court case was filed before she was married, so it would use her maiden name. The name of a case doesn't change once it's filed, so far as I understand. **

**Sorry if the last part feels a little rushed. I could maybe have flushed it out more, but I was wanting to get it posted. I thought you all had been waiting long enough for the next chapter. **

**Review please. **


	32. Threats and Bodyguards

Roxanne breathes a sigh of relief as she finally sits in her parked car two blocks down from the courthouse. Thankfully, the paparazzi hadn't been nearly as bad this time as they were after her arraignment. They'd taken a few pictures, but hadn't even followed her down the street. The news that her charges were dropped is not very exciting to the media. If it even makes the paper, it will be a small mention on the back page. She watches for a minute as Mr. Roberts walks back to where his own car is parked. She's glad her legal problems are finally over. She puts the key into the ignition, but a loud beeping gets her attention before she puts the car in gear.

She opens up her glove box to pull out a small LCD screen about the size of an eReader and looks at what it's displaying. A black and white diagram of her car is shown in two views and a blinking red dot is marked on both. She sighs and, after removing her key, steps back out of her car. She lays on the ground by her front bumper, hoping the road dirt doesn't ruin her dress, and fishes around for the item indicated on the read-out. After a minute, she finds the tiny tracking device and removes it. This is the second time this week she's had to do this. Before she stands up, she reattaches the device to the inside of the rear bumper of the car parked ahead of her. She notes its 'Proud Parent of an Acorn Valley Honor Roll Student' bumper sticker and the five minutes left on the parking meter it's next to. She predicts that the other car will soon be leading whoever's trying to follow her on a nice long wild goose chase out to the suburbs. She wishes she knew who is trying to track her home, but not enough to leave the tracking device in place.

She stands up and climbs back into her car. Right on cue, a woman in a dark business suit approaches and gets into the car Roxanne just bugged. The reporter watches the woman start her car and drive off in the opposite direction from where Roxanne is heading. She smiles as she pulls out into the road herself.

She deliberately drives a bit slower than traffic, allowing all the other cars to pass her until she's in a clear spot without any other vehicles around. Then she flips an innocent-looking switch grouped with her environmental controls on her dashboard. Her car immediately vanishes from sight.

Driving an invisible car is still new for her and she isn't entirely comfortable doing it without Megamind or Minion helping her watch traffic. Unfortunately, it's a skill she needs to master if she doesn't want to give away the location of their home. So, she concentrates on her driving and checks her mirrors constantly. It's a nerve-wracking experience, but she manages to make it home without adding any new dents to her car or having to flip it back visible again. Minion had assured her after her first try that it would get easier with practice. She hopes he's right.

She drives through the holographic wall into the lair that has become her home. She turns off the cloaking device and her car shimmers into visibility as she pulls it into a parking space next to Megamind's car. She gets out and walks toward the half deconstructed giant robot in the middle of the large main room. Halfway there, the accustomed swarm of brainbots greets her with excited bowgs and jostle each other to push their domes under her hands. She obliges them with a few strokes, but isn't ready to play with them. "Mommy will play with you boys later," she promises them, "Right now, I need to talk to Daddy." The bots are clearly disappointed, but most of them obediently return to their assigned tasks. Four of them, that don't have duties to perform, trail behind her at a distance.

Megamind had heard her arrive and she finds him waiting for her perched on the cranium of the now-legless construct. As she watches, he slides down the clear dome, hooks an arm around a spike at its shoulder to change his direction, and slides down a ten-foot metal arm to the floor. He doesn't quite stick the landing, stumbling a bit as he hits the ground. He hops awkwardly a couple times, his arms flailing outwards, before he catches his balance. He isn't concerned with his entrance, however, and walks straight over to wrap her in his arms before asking, "How'd it go?"

"All charges dropped," she announces, her amusement with his antics melting into her joy at her release.

"That's wonderful!" He exclaims, laughing. He lifts her up and spins her around recklessly, "You won!"

She laughs along with him, caught up in his child-like enthusiasm. To think, this man managed to convince an entire city he was pure evil for years. He stops spinning and kisses her happily, the light kiss turning into something deeper as she slides through his arms back to her feet. After a moment, their lips separate and she opens her eyes to find his half-lidded and staring right back. She sighs happily. She loves being able to come home to this at the end of the day. Who would have thought she'd end up with him? She pulls away and slips her arm around his narrow waist as she starts to walk toward the huge red curtain pulled across one end of the lair. He follows her lead and they're soon stepping around the heavy material and into the idea room.

Roxanne disengages herself from his arms and lays her purse on her desk. She reaches in and pulls out several pieces of paper she had folded together and stuffed into her bag earlier. She unfolds them to reveal, among other things, a carbon copy of a receipt and a slip of paper that she holds in the air. He sees that it's a check made out to Roxanne Megamind for $10,000. "I got the bail money back," she tells him, "I'll cash it tomorrow." He's glad to know that. Although he has plenty of money, particularly since he doesn't have to fund any evil schemes anymore, it's nice to have the not-insignificant sum back in their hands. Especially since his income will be restrict to interest earned from legitimate investments until he gets his new corporation up and running. She folds the check in half and slides it into her wallet where it will be safe enough until she can get to the bank.

While she does this, he moves closer and wraps his strong, thin arms around her from behind. He rests his chin on her shoulder and watches as she organizes the court papers she'd brought back with her. She pulls a manila folder from one corner of her desk. It's labeled _Metro City vs. Ritchi - 2009_ and already contains a thin stack of documents. She adds all the papers from her purse except one. "You were right to be paranoid about the watch," she tells him, "It was confiscated after the hearing." She picks up the remaining item, an unassuming business card. She reads the name printed on it, "Agent Vincent Shaw, FBI," and then holds it up for Megamind to take. She guesses he might want to call the man up and taunt him or something.

The color fades from his face and he snatches the card from her fingers. Unconsciously he releases her and stands up straight behind her chair. As she said, it lists Vincent Shaw as an agent for the FBI, but he knows that name from somewhere else. It's too much of a coincidence, "Shaw is not an FBI agent," he says in response to her curious stare. His hands shake slightly as he examines both sides of the card, "Did you see him?"

"Yes," she answers, turning towards him in her swivel chair. The man had been waiting by the door to the police evidence room when she got there. He'd been holding the evidence bag with the dummy watch. "Tall. Early Sixties. Salt and pepper hair. Cut short, like a military style. Thinning at the top. White mustache. Black suit."

He nods his head, a worried frown pulling down his mouth. That sounds like Shaw. "Did he say anything to you?" he asks.

"He told me that he was confiscating the watch for national security reasons and gave me that card," she answers. The exchange had seemed business-like to her at the time. She wonders what Megamind knows that has him so worried. "Oh, and just before he walked away he congratulated me on our marriage. He said he was glad to see that 'Megamind had such a lovely bride.'"

Megamind lowers his brows pensively and strokes his chin. What game is Shaw playing? Why is he showing himself now? Was it because he'd gotten married or because he'd retired? Did Shaw think that now that Megamind had given up on destroying Metro Man, his answer would change? Or did he think now that he had a wife, he was vulnerable? Was talking to Roxanne instead of him supposed to be a threat? "Shaw works for the Alien and Superhuman Control Agency."

"I've never heard of them," she says. Alien Control? That sounds ominous.

"I'm not surprised," he answers, "It's an international organization that's not even supposed to exist. The world governments use them when they need someone with superpowers… _controlled_."

"Why didn't they ever control you?" she asks. He'd operated as a supervillain for years and she doesn't remember anyone except the police and Metro Man ever fighting him.

"Metrocity never asked them to and they can't come into the city unless they're invited," he explains.

"Like vampires," Roxanne observes, trying to lighten the mood.

He smiles at the comparison, but it isn't really apt. "More like mercenaries. No country will knowingly allow them to operate unauthorized within their borders or to capture a super other than their target." He knew that didn't always stop them, however, "Besides, they don't work for free and their fees are astronomical. As long as Metrocity already had Metro Mahn on payroll, it was _his_ job to control me. In the short run it was cheaper, even after paying for all the property damage. But after all these years? It would have cost less to have paid the experts." He wraps his arms tightly around himself, suddenly wishing he didn't keep the lair quite so cold and damp. "They would have loved to get their hands on me, too. The ASCA has wanted me on-staff for years." He walks over to his section of the room, where components of some of his evil plans still hang from strings on the ceiling. He touches one at random and pulls it down angrily. He wads it into a ball and tosses it toward a trash can, not even watching to see if it goes in. He removes more papers from the clips, crumples them, and tosses them the same way. Some sail in, some litter the floor around it. "I'm the expert on Metro Mahn's abilities," he says as he works, "I've spent my life trying to figure out how to counter his powers. That's exactly the sort of thing they're studying. They never understood why I wasn't interested in joining them voluntarily. They thought I'd be the perfect fit for their organization and the salary was ridiculously generous. They even offered to make my convictions disappear."

"Why didn't you take the job, then?" she asks. If they'd given him a chance at a normal life without his convictions following him, why wouldn't he take it?

He pauses, and stares blankly at all his plans hanging in mid-air, "We may have been in the same field, but our goals conflict. And their ethics are appalling. Why trade being a prisoner in Metrocity for being a prisoner in their facility?"

"You'd be a prisoner?" she asks, confused.

"Essentially," he agrees, turning towards her again, "They'd give me an office and a paycheck and a nice house. Anything I wanted. But I'd never be allowed to leave." The four brainbots that had followed them into the room drift over to the trash can to pick up his crumpled liter and deposit it where it belongs. "At least the penitentiary didn't pretend to be something else. Besides, so long as Metro Mahn's being Metrocity's happy little lapdog, they don't really need me. If he ever turns on the city, though, that's all the excuse they'll need to come for me, with Metrocity's blessing." He reaches out and takes her hand, "Probably you too for leverage to make sure I play nice. They're dangerous."

"What will they do to us?" she asks quietly, his paranoia infecting her.

"I don't know. If I cooperate it probably wouldn't be too unpleasant. But if I don't… I don't want to think about it. They won't think twice about hurting you to get to me. And with the baby…" he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, "I'll probably do whatever they want, so long as it keeps you two safe. Once they realize that, they'll want to use me for more than just controlling Metro Mahn. "

"What do you mean? What will they have you do?"

He steps forward and leans his head against hers, their foreheads touching. He stares down at their entwined fingers and is silent for awhile. Finally he answers, "Experiment on supers. Test the limits of their powers. Find ways to hurt them, trap them, negate their abilities." He pauses again, "The worst part is that the supers they experiment on are just kids. Orphans and runaways. Kids that don't understand their own powers or why they're being tortured. Kids that no one cares about."

"You'd do that? To innocent children?" she can't imagine him stooping to such evil, ex-supervillain or not.

"If I believed it was the only way to keep you and the baby safe? Yes I would," he meets her gaze with haunted eyes. There is literally nothing more important to him on the entire planet than her life. He would commit atrocities if it meant keeping her safe. "It doesn't mean I'd be happy about it, though."

"How do you know all this?"

He looks down at their hands again, fiddling absently with her fingers. "The first time I heard of the ASCA, I was seventeen and Shaw paid me a visit in prison. He wanted to know what my plans were for after I turned eighteen. When I told him I planned to be a supervillain he thought he knew what I wanted and offered me an alternate outlet for my eevil. He described all the horrible things he'd let me do to innocent captives. He thought since I chose villainy as my path I'd jump at the opportunity. It made me sick." He pauses and watches his brainbots fight over the last crumpled ball of paper, each wanting to be the one to dispose of it. "I refused him and I didn't see him again until after my first manslaughter conviction. Every few years he shows up and makes his offer. It's been three years since I last saw him. I was hoping he'd given up."

"What do they want with the watch?"

"I don't know. Maybe they want to use it. Maybe it's just a message for me. Probably both. If they didn't want me to know it was them, they wouldn't have used Vincent Shaw. They would have sent someone I didn't know. They want me to know they're still watching and that they know about you."

"Sweetie, everyone knows about me. They didn't need to do anything sinister to find out." She reaches out from her chair and pulls him toward her into an embrace. She rests her head on his stomach. "It's okay," she calms him, "They're just trying to spook you. You said they only really need you if Wayne turns on the city, right?"

"Yes. Probably." He absently strokes her hair, "Or another glaupunk."

"Then it's fine. He would never do that and there aren't any other glaupunks. Nobody's going to come get us. If they did, you'd escape in some ingenious way and then we'd expose them for what they are," she predicts, "It's not worth the risk for them."

"You're probably right," he acknowledges, leaning down to kiss his wife on the top of her head, "Shaw is just trying to scare me." He feels a little better after working through the logic of her argument, but not entirely. "The ASCA aren't the only people interested in me, though," he tells her, his hands wandering along her back as he worries, "The CIA, FBI, and all branches of the military want my weapons and any of my technology that can be used for espionage. Several foreign countries are interested in the same things for their own reasons. Lots of crime bosses and supervillains would love to force me to work for them. And, of course, the police always want me in prison."

She leans away from him so she can see his face. "Who knew you were so popular?" she teases, trying to make him smile.

"I know, right?" he rewards her efforts with a grin, "And that's just the ones I know about."

"And I thought all the secrecy you live with was just to keep yourself out of prison."

"The police are the least of my problems," he scoffs, "What worries me most is you, though. You can't hide and still work as a reporter. I know you don't want to quit your job, at least not yet. And I would never force you to. But I can't protect you when you're away from me. I've been thinking about it. I'd like to give you some brainbot bodyguards."

"That's a little paranoid, even for you, don't you think?" she objects.

"No, Roxanne. Even if we ignore everyone who might abduct you to get to me, there are still those anti-alien hate groups. They've been sending you insults and death threats ever since those first hoverbike photos were printed. What do you think will happen when it becomes obvious that you're pregnant? I know most of them are so spineless it's a wonder they can stand upright, but you can never tell when one of the crazies might actually try something. I'd feel much better about it if you had some protection." He finally smiles at her. "And what good is it to have a robot horde if I can't use them to keep my wife safe?"

Roxanne hates the idea of needing that sort of protection, but she reluctantly admits he's right. "Alright. Which bots?"

He thinks for a moment, considering all the brainbots in his arsenal. He needs ones that are intelligent and well-behaved, but also capable of deadly force if necessary. Ones with laser weapons systems would be best. They'll need to be able to make quick decisions on their own if something bad happens. And they'll need to be loyal to her first. He can't have them abandoning her to save him if they perceive a threat to both of them. He considers the personalities and capabilities of his creatures, "Come on," he says, believing he knows which would work best.

He leads her out of the idea room and leaves her at the doorway to a cramped storage room. Megamind walks into the dim room where rack upon rack of dormant brainbots are sleeping. The racks are so close together that only brainbots and, occasionally, Megamind ever enter the place. Minion won't even fit. Megamind picks one narrow aisle and sidles sideways down it. He stops halfway along and considers the silent bots carefully. All the brainbots are dark, without even the slightest spark flaring within their glass domes. A single light glows on the shelf under each one. That's the only sign that these creatures are anything more than empty shells.

After a moment he taps the glowing buttons under two of the creatures. One on the third shelf up and one on the fifth. The chosen bots respond lethargically, opening their glowing red eyes reluctantly and blinking in the dim light. They stretch their eyestalks and unfold their tentacles as they drift from their places to float before their daddy, one above the other in the narrow space.

"Brainbots: Update from server," he orders in a verbal version of their command-line language. Usually he doesn't bother with the formal language structure because they are intelligent enough to correctly interpret conversational speech. However, sometimes newly-woken bots behave erratically as they adjust to being awake after a long hibernation. It's one of the disadvantages inherent to cyborgs as opposed to purely electronic AIs. However, once fully awake, the brainbots can out-perform any comparable AI. For the moment, though, he doesn't want their groggy minds to misunderstand his orders. He needs to make sure their programming is up-to-date before they leave the room. These two have been dormant for over a year and know nothing about his retirement or marriage. If they follow their outdated directives they'll identify Roxanne as an intruder and restrain and threaten her. They were always programmed not to hurt her, but to act like they would. He doesn't want them to frighten her.

The bots obey their orders and pause in mid-air as they negotiate the proper security procedures to verify both their own identities and that of the server they're accessing. Then their software and databases are updated. They review their new data and blink in surprise at recent events. Daddy has given up evil and is married to Roxanne Ritchi? They query the server for confirmation. Twice. Then they look at Daddy who is waiting patiently for them to complete their update routines. They observe that he is not wearing his normal costume or even a cape. In fact, although the clothing is black, there is not a single spike on him. They isolate his bare left hand within their current visual feeds and observe the presence of a ring encircling his third finger. They consult their human cultural reference tables and confirm that such jewelry indicates the wearer is married. They are both quite curious how this happened, but Daddy is waiting for them. They consult each other and agree to examine the archives and question their brothers later. In the meantime they do not need to know the details. They both bowg to indicate that they have completed their updates and are fully operational.

Daddy smiles, "You noted the addition of Mommy to our family?" he asks the bots.

"Bowg," they agree.

"Good. From now own, you two will be Mommy's personal bodyguards. Your primary responsibility is to insure her safety. You are to be with her anytime she leaves the lair. If anything ever goes wrong, you are to notify me or Minion immediately. If we are not available get her whatever help she needs. _Even if that means Metro Mahn_. Her safety is your _only_ concern. Do you understand?"

The bots enter the new instructions into their operational directives and bowg in acknowledgement.

"Good," he says in approval, "Now, go introduce your selves to Mommy."

The bots rise up to the ceiling where there is more space and fly over Daddy's head and out of the room. He hears excited bowg-bowgs as he extracts himself from the narrow aisle, successfully managing it without knocking any brainbots off their charging stations. When he exits the room he finds his wife happily stroking her new bodyguards the way she knows brainbots like best. The two bots are ecstatic to get the full and undivided attention of their new Mommy all to themselves. The four idle brainbots, that had been following her since she came home, drift nearer. The newly awakened bots warn them off. When two ignore the warning and start to crowd close, the bodyguards bowg-bowg and snap at their brothers, driving them off.

"Hey!" Roxanne shouts at them, "That is not acceptable. Come here."

The bots obey her order, having noted that she now has full security rights and command privileges, just like Daddy and Minion. They hover in front of her at eye level. She reaches out to the first and turns it around backwards to read its serial number. Then she does the same to the other.

"86 and 112," she says, memorizing the numbers and which is which. 86 has a three-spiked crest, blunt bear trap jaws, and two arms underneath. 112 has no crest, a sharp saw blade jaw, and three arms. Though 86 looks far more impressive, 112 would be the more dangerous of the two. "You're my bodyguards, not my keepers. You're to keep me safe, but not by keeping me isolated. Understand?"

The bots bowg submissively in obedience.

"Monday I'll be going back to work, and I can't have you snapping at everyone that comes within three feet of me. I work around other people. It's part of the job. If you can't behave yourselves, Daddy will have to choose other bots for the job."

Their eyestalks flash in alarm. They want to make Daddy proud. They know how many brothers they have and how easily they can be replaced with another if they don't live up to Mommy's expectations. The bots let out electronic whines and squirm lower in the air, not quite meeting her eyes with their eyestalks.

She smiles, forgiving their misbehavior, "If you find me a couple of wrenches, Daddy and I will play with you."

The bots perk up immediately and start looking around with twitchy eyestalks. One of the bots they had chased off earlier approaches nervously, bowging at Mommy as if asking permission to join in.

"Yes, you too 783. And whoever else wants to play."

Soon six wrenches are dropped at Mommy's feet and she and Daddy begin throwing them around the room for a dozen happy brainbots. All the bots are in bliss. 86 and 112 claim one of the wrenches for their own and play tug-of-war with it at Mommy's feet, unwilling to leave her side.


	33. Saving Mommy from Daddy

**This one has some sexual content. It's pretty tame and not explicit, but if that bothers you, skip down to the section break and you can read some funny stuff with brainbots. **

Megamind walks back into the bedroom with a confused look on his face, "Well, I don't know where he put them. I don't understand why he won't just leave the ropes in the bedroom."

Roxanne looks up from her book. She's sitting on the far side of the bed wearing a black silk nighty she'd bought specifically to wear for him. It barely covers her, and in all the right places. "He probably has no idea that we're actually using them," she answers, "It might not even occur to him. After all, don't fish spawn?"

"Minion fish do," he agrees, "I think I'm going to have to explain it to him."

"Oh, God," she says, "Please do it when I'm not around. I don't want to have to explain that it turns me on to be tied up."

"Ugh, like it'll be easy for me? He'll want to know why I want to restrain you when we're already mates. He'll give me that suspicious fish-eye look he does so well."

"Just tell him it's a humanoid thing. He doesn't need to understand it anymore than you need to understand what's so sexy about spawning in a river, or whatever it is minion fish do."

"Well, no ropes tonight," he sighs and considers his options. He narrows his eyes and grins evilly at his wife, shifting to what she always thinks of as his villain's voice, "So, Miss Ritchi. We meet again. You finally came to my evil lair of your own free will?" He steeples his fingers as he smirks at her. The effect is somewhat dulled by the ridiculous hazmat-patterned pajamas he's wearing. And the cape.

She smiles as she places a bookmark in her book and sets it on the side table. She considers how to respond to his opening. "What can I say, Megamind? I just couldn't resist your eevil charms any longer," she answers, then lowers her voice to something more sultry, "I just had to find out what I've been missing."

"And did you wear that just for me?" he asks, pacing slowly towards the bed. His eyes roam freely up and down her body, leering at her with a nasty smirk.

"This old thing?" she asks coyly, plucking at the fabric as she plays along, "Isn't this what nosy reporters always wear when they go sneaking around supervillain lairs at night? Although…" She raises her hand to her mouth and widens her eyes as if something embarrassing just occurred to her. She whispers, "I think I did forget to wear panties."

Megamind almost breaks character as he struggles to incorporate that last bit into their little improv play, "Naughty, Miss Ritchi," he chuckles, "You know, I am a supervillain. Some might say you're just asking to be ravished."

"Oh, I'd say I'm begging for it," she agrees. She shifts herself in the bed so she's lying down, waiting for him. Her already short negligee rides up in the process, showing a delightful amount of leg and, if he bends down just a little, which he does, he can verify that she is without panties.

He quirks an eyebrow in smug approval. He suddenly feels overdressed and sheds his clothing, leaving it in a puddle on the floor. He decides to leave his soft bedtime cape on for villainous effect, but is otherwise nude. He steps over to the bed and climbs onto it, crawling slowly across to her. He sits on his heels beside her and traces a finger up the inside of one thigh, watching her shiver in reaction. "Are you cold, Miss Ritchi?"

"A little," she admits, "Can you think of any way to warm me up?" Her eyes slide down his bare skin, wanting to feel it against her.

"Flamethrower?" he suggests, placing a light kiss on her thigh where his finger had been a moment before. His hand slides up under the edge of her nightdress and he teases her with his thumb.

"You can't scare me," she insists, squirming under his touch.

"You should be afraid. I'm an evil space alien," he tells her between kisses. He looks up at her with those inhumanly bright green eyes. "And I have you in my clutches. Aren't you afraid of what I'll do to you, now that you're here? After all, we're completely alone. No one can hear you scream."

"You think you'll make me scream?" she asks, smirking as if she doesn't believe it.

He lifts himself onto his hands and knees and crawls into position over her. He whispers low into her ear, "Oh, I think I'm going to try." With no more warning than that, he thrusts into her hard.

She cries out in surprise, but recovers quickly, "Do your worst, villain," she challenges him.

So he does.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

In the dark lair, two lone brainbots float aimlessly. Their brothers are all charging for the night, Minion is powered down and asleep, and they just saw Daddy disappear into the little apartment built into one side of the lair. They are still awake, reviewing information they retrieved from the brainbot server's archives. They're bringing themselves up to speed on what happened during their last dormant period, especially the last month and a half or so. They're also researching what types of threats Mommy might face so that they can better perform their assignment as bodyguards. The brainbots on street patrol have a large database of violent behavior categorized. The bots review it and are appalled at what humans will do to each other.

As they sort through the records, they are startled by a strange noise coming from the apartment. It sounds like Mommy. They float through the open door and into the kitchen to investigate. They pause again to listen. They hear small cries which distress them, as well as Daddy's voice in low tones that they can't hear clearly. They drift down the hallway to the bedroom door, which has been left slightly ajar. They maneuver their eyestalks to peer into the room.

They blink in surprise at what they see. They consult the database to confirm the violent behavior they are witnessing, but are frozen with indecision. They do not want to act against Daddy, but it's their job to protect Mommy. They consult each other and review their directives. Daddy told them that their only concern is Mommy's safety. They agree that this even overrides their loyalty to Daddy.

As Mommy's face contorts in a grimace they interpret as pain, they rush in and pull Daddy off of her, holding him against the wall.

"What are you doing, you dim-witted creations of science? Let me go. Now!" protests Daddy, flailing his limbs as he tries to get loose from his creatures metal limbs.

"Bowg-Bowg!" they warn him, snapping their jaws. 112 gets him pinned securely and 86 drifts toward Mommy to assess her status.

"Bowg?" it asks her, tipping its body to the side quizzically.

She had been too shocked at first to say anything, but now, seeing 86 hovering near her with such obvious concern, she realizes what happened and bursts into laughter. Both the situation and the sight of Megamind pinned naked to the wall by his own brainbots strike her as extremely funny.

"I'm glad you think this is funny, Roxanne," grouses Megamind indignantly from across the room, "I don't know what's wrong with them. Once they let me down, I'm going to go through their circuits with a sledgehammer. Apparently their last hibernation addled their minds!"

"No," objects Roxanne, "I know what happened. They were trying to protect me," she turns toward 86. "Isn't that right?"

86 bowgs in agreement, bobbing its body in a nod to make sure she understands.

"From me?" he asks incredulously.

"They thought you were hurting me," she explains, "They don't understand. 112, put Daddy down. He wasn't hurting me before and he won't hurt me now."

Reluctantly, the brainbot releases Daddy, growling in warning just before his feet touch the ground. Megamind lunges at it with a snarl, reasserting his dominance and sending it skittering across the room to hide behind Mommy. Then he stalks over and sits on the corner of the bed, at a safe distance from Mommy and her wary bots. He glares at them, making it clear he is not happy with their behavior.

Roxanne soothes them and explains, "Mommy and Daddy are married now and married people…" She wonders what term would be best understood by the brainbots. She somehow doesn't think the term 'making love' would be very clear to them.

"Mate," Megamind supplies. The brainbots have canine organic components and will understand that concept best, "Mommy and Daddy are mates and what we were doing was mating. And you interrupted," he huffs.

"Yes," she agrees, "We were mating. It doesn't hurt either of us. In fact, it feels good."

"Just good?" Megamind asks with at knowing smirk.

"Hush," she tells him, then turns back to the brainbots, "It's something that organic creatures do. It's perfectly normal. I guess it can look kind of violent the first time you see it, though. Huh?"

The bots bowg pitifully in response.

"Don't worry, we're not mad at you." She rubs their domes reassuringly, "Even Daddy," she shoots him a piercing look that says _you better not be mad at them_.

He sighs and concedes, "No, I'm not mad at you. You were just doing your job, protecting Mommy. You're good menacing little cyborgs. Just don't interrupt us like that again."

The bots, feeling somewhat better about the situation, float back through the doorway. Megamind follows them. Standing by the door, he explains one more thing to them in a low voice, "Mommy is _my_ mate. That means _I'm_ allowed to mate with her, and _only_ me. If anyone else ever tries to: kill him." The bots bowg in acknowledgement and add the order to their programming. Megamind closes the door firmly behind them and returns to their bed, the mood completely ruined.

**Review, please!**


	34. Chasing the Wind

The June sun is hot on her back, but the wind that holds her aloft cools her. Her long hair streams behind her, whipping around in great gusts. Her hair reaches her ankles when she stands. When she flies, it blows out into a tangled cloud around her head. When she remembers to, she binds it back into a braid, but she hadn't bothered this morning. Tonight she'll have to spend an hour brushing it out, but at the moment she doesn't care. She enjoys the way the wind feels as it combs through it like the fingers of a lover.

She'd already found a small apartment in the city below and unpacked her few precious belongings. Now she drifts over the city learning its air currents and their patterns, making friends with the sky. She must learn how far she can bend the will of the winds, how quickly they respond, and how much strength they can assert. It is essential that she masters them if she is to control the sky here.

After an hour floating around aimlessly, testing the high air, she decides to work closer to the ground. She dives straight down, plummeting like a rock, and then swoops back up, coming ten feet from the ground at her lowest point. She climbs again and then dives, cutting the distance to five feet. She keeps practicing, rising and diving until she can brush the grass with her hands as she swoops low. Satisfied to have gauged how quickly the air responds here, she moves on to other tests.

She flies among the tall buildings downtown, learning their layout and working on her cornering as she blows past them at reckless speeds. She clips Metro Tower as she comes too close and wobbles unsteadily in the air. She voices a short series of staccato monotones and listens to the sound as it returns to her, noting her mistake in assuming the building was of uniform width along its entire height. Instead it is tiered, like a narrow and extremely tall wedding cake. The edge of one tier took her off guard. She rubs her bruised arm, glad that she is not injured easily. Another woman might have a broken shoulder from that impact. Of course, another woman wouldn't be riding the wind in the first place. She is satisfied with her control of the air for flight, but her injured arm is testimony to her need to work on listening to what it tells her better. It seems that the air does not speak as loudly to her here as it did near the ocean where she last lived. She must learn to compensate for its lack.

She blinks her blind eyes in the wind and races along at street level, her cackling laughter echoing against the high walls and traffic. She feels the pressure and wind speeds, hears the way sounds bounce off objects and are distorted by their relative motions, and senses the heat from warm pavement, engines, and people's bodies. She even detects the steady movement of air as people nearby breathe in and out. She hears the startled gasps as they glimpse her fly past. Her eyes may be useless orbs, but she sees well.

She feels a void in the air beside her and the heat of a body that wasn't there an instant before. It's the massive body of an unbelievably tall and well-muscled man. The wind is not supporting him, but simply parting around his presence. He hangs in the sky because he chooses to be there, not because the wind is holding him. His flight has nothing to do with control of the air. It is an innate ability of a glaupunk, not a carefully honed skill as it is with her.

Still, she's never flown with another before and she thrills at the idea. She wonders if he can keep up. She smiles and turns suddenly down a cross-street they had nearly passed by. She feels her companion's aerial stumble as he's caught off-guard and has to backtrack just slightly to make the turn. She's ahead of him now and banks into an updraft, rising above all but the tallest towers. She lets out a peal of laughter that doubles as an echo-location aid and hears him approaching fast. She feels for his wind-void and turns to face him. Just as he draws near, she falls backwards, holding her arms out to the sides until she's falling head first. Then she points her arms over her head into a straight dive. She gains speed as she falls and feels him follow. She levels out around a hundred feet from the ground and begins to weave and dart between the buildings.

She delights in feinting with him so he thinks she's going one way and she really goes the other. Twice he nearly has her except she blows a gust of wind at him to knock him out of the way as she slips around him. She laughs as she dances through the air with her partner, who isn't sure what game they're playing. She catches his laughter as she pushes off of a building with her feet to sail straight over his head. His fingers brush her boot as she passes, but not quickly enough as she darts around a building that hides her from his sight. She waits, quiet as a mouse, on the building ledge, crouching like a spandex-clad gargoyle as she listens to the air.

He flies around the corner, immediately searching into the distance for her, assuming she'd have flown as far as she could while she was out of sight. She giggles behind him and he turns toward the sound. As he does, she sends a whirlwind to twist his cape around his head. As he struggles with the material and the wind which keeps flinging it back at him, she leaps into the air and to a balcony on a building across the street. She opens door and creeps into the shadows, still listening to the air as it tells her what he's doing. She releases her whirlwind and he finally bats the offending cape out of his face. He flies from side to side, trying to find where she's disappeared to. Eventually he gives up and floats away to resume his patrol of the city. She thinks the sigh he gives as he leaves sounds disappointed. Once he's gone, she closes her balcony door and laughs out loud. She'd gotten his attention.

**Okay, Lady Doppler. There is no official back story or summary of her powers or anything. She actually looks like a Caucasian rip-of of the X-Men's Storm. Go google her to see what she looks like. She obviously has to have weather powers. But why Doppler? The Doppler Effect is the way sounds, colors, etc. shift in wavelength due to their relative motion. So, since she has white eyes, I decided to make her blind and she uses a sort of sonar to detect the world around her, including the relative motions of things (incorporating the Doppler bit). She also just outright controls the air, so she can feel her environment with that air control/sense. That's also how she flies. **

**Why didn't Metro Man use his super speed to catch her or his x-ray vision when she disappeared? Well, that would be cheating, wouldn't it? She was clearly playing tag with him and he's not aware of her having broken the law, so no reason to treat it as anything other than a game. **

**Don't expect any new updates for a week or so. I just got a new Dresden Files Book and a new Women of the Otherworld downloaded to my nook, so I'll be immersed in those for a bit. Also, I have some legitimate work to do. So… sorry. You'll have to wait a bit. *shrug* **

**Oh, sorry these chapters aren't posted on LiveJournal. My computers and LiveJournal are not getting along, apparently. I don't know what the deal is, but I'm lucky if I can even get to the site, a miracle if I can comment on a post, and I haven't been able to submit my own post for two days. So, it's not there. But FF is working fine. :)  
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	35. The Hero, The Human, The Sky, & The Lady

**Okay, okay. Just one more story, then I'm going to get to work…**

Throughout the rest of the day, Metro Man finds himself showing off. Lifting a derailed el-train just a little too high as he puts it back on the track. Carrying people _three_ at a time from a burning building. Setting that passenger jet with the disabled engines down _one-handed_. He admits to himself it is juvenile. And all for nothing, anyway. Each time he finishes rescuing the helpless people of Metro City, he searches the skies and she isn't there. Not that he should expect her to be, but he had hoped.

She'd been playing in the air. Absolutely caught up in the joy of flight. It had been infectious and he'd found himself chasing her. Not the way he normally chases villains in the sky, but the way a child would chase another child in a game of tag. Only in the air. He'd _enjoyed_ chasing her. He'd even enjoyed flying, something that he'd never paid any more attention to than most humans did to walking. He hadn't felt so alive in years.

And, to be honest, though it was a childish game, the thoughts going through his mind as he chased her were far from childish. He was very aware of that spandex suit she was wearing. It fit her like a glove, showing off a fine figure. And that hair? What was with that? He can't remember ever seeing anyone her age with absolutely white hair. He'd seen platinum blondes, but even those had a hint of yellow. Hers was pure white. Like snow or clouds. It was beautiful. And the eyes? Those did worry him. They were pure white all the way across. He hadn't been sure she'd looked him in the eye the entire time she'd played with him, but she couldn't be blind or else how could she maneuver the way she did? Still, the idea made him feel protective of her. More so than just his obligation as protector of Metro City. She was no random citizen. She was a mystery. A beautiful mystery that had led him an exciting chase through the streets of his city and then given him the slip.

He wonders what she is. A mutant? A science experiment? The result of a freak accident? Some supernatural creature he'd never heard of before? Perhaps… an alien? Like him? He wants to see her again. Talk to her. He doesn't even know her name.

As his eyes close for the night he dreams of chasing her through the sky again. Only this time, he catches her.

0o0o0o0o0o0

She walks down the stairs in her apartment building, humming to herself and listening to the echo. She follows the front hallway to the block of mailboxes at the back of the building. She fits her key into the one with her number on it and opens it to find only one thing: A letter. Unfortunately, the person who'd sent it had no idea the recipient was blind and it isn't printed in Braille. She can't read it. It's the one thing her wind sense and sonar cannot compensate for. There are no colors in her world. No light or shadow. She knows the shape of everything around her, in very precise detail if she bothers to 'look' that close, but she cannot perceive the black letters printed on the white paper. It is merely a smooth envelope to her. She sighs in annoyance and is startled when someone responds to her.

"What's the matter, pretty lady?" a masculine voice asks. The owner of the voice had just entered the hallway from the stairs when he'd heard her sigh.

She hums to herself and sends a puff of air to the speaker. Between the two, she 'sees' that he's an average-height, overweight man with a large nose and curly hair. He also needs a shower. That last observations does not require the use of her powers at all.

Hal Stewert hadn't seen the striking woman with the long white hair before and is naturally curious. She's standing in front of an open mailbox, so she must live here. But he thought he'd met everyone. When she doesn't answer, he walks toward her asking, "Anything I can help you with?"

She closes her box and turns toward him with a smile, "Actually, yes, there is."

Hal is startled by her eyes, which are pure white. They're creepy. "Oh, wow. You're blind, aren't you?" he asks stupidly.

"More-or-less," she replies enigmatically, "Can you tell me who this is from?" she asks, "It isn't in Braille so I can't tell and my OCR reader is still upstairs charging."

"Yeah, sure," Hal answers uncertainly. He's caught between wanting to help a beautiful lady and being creeped out by her disability. He swallows his discomfort and steps close enough to take the letter she is holding out to him. It's not like whatever she has is catching, he tells himself. He glances down at it. It is addressed to Resident. "Oh, this is just from the welcome wagon," he tells her, "It'll have a letter welcoming you to the building and some coupons." He holds the letter out to her and notices that she takes it straight from his hand without either looking or fumbling around feeling for where he's holding it. That's somehow creepier than if she'd had to feel for it.

"Thank you," she tells him. She promptly pitches the junk mail into a trash can positioned next to the mailboxes.

"If you're blind, how did you do that?" Hal asks her with more intelligence than she'd given him credit for. She shouldn't have been able to hit the target without seeing it.

She shrugs, "I knew where it was." With no more explanation than that, she steps around him and walks to the stairs.

He watches her walk away from him and notices that, although she's blind, she's also hot. Hot enough to overlook the creepiness of her eyes. Just before she places her foot on the first stair, Hal says, "Hey, if you need someone to read your mail to you or show you around the neighborhood, let me know, okay? I'd be glad to help."

"Thank you. I will keep that in mind," she answers, beginning to climb the stairs.

"I'm in 518," he continues, "Hal Stewart. I uh… I'm sharing the place with my mom so…" He's embarrassed to be living back with his mother again, but without a job he couldn't pay the rent at his old place. It's one more thing he blames on that evil blue freak who took his Roxanne away from him. "So, don't be weirded out if she answers the door instead of me."

She looks suddenly sad. "You're lucky to have family," she tells him, "All I have is a memory."

"Oh, geez," he says awkwardly, "I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"My home was lost to a natural disaster. Everyone I knew died," she tells him, "I don't like to talk about it."

"Yeah, okay," he answers, "I understand that. But still, if there's anything I can do to help you out, let me know."

"I will, Hal Stewart," she answers, continuing up the stairs.

A thrill goes through his body as he hears her speak his name and he doesn't realize until after she's gone that he never got her name. He checks the front of her mailbox. It says 'Doppler'. He hopes he will be seeing more of Miss Doppler. Maybe it's just as well Roxanne married Megamind. If he'd still been after her, he might not have noticed his neighbor at all. He thinks she's even more beautiful than Roxanne, except for her eyes. And, since she's blind, she could probably use his help. He could be her hero. After all, it's not like she's involved with Metro Man like Roxanne was.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Lady Doppler paces across the worn wooden floor in her dark apartment. Her fingers deftly plait her hair without conscious thought. It's a commonplace task that occupies her hands without burdening her mind. She steps through the open doorway onto her balcony and stands at the railing. The wispy hair around her forehead flutters in the sultry night breeze. It teases at her hair and wraps summer-warm fingers around her body, begging for her to venture out to play. She grins at the wind, pleased that it already wants her.

With hot breath in her ear, it whispers of a storm on the horizon. A tempest of lightning and raw power that makes her body thrill in anticipation. A gust lifts her slightly from the floor without asking permission and she clamps her will down upon it, returning her feet to the surface. She is determined to be the master in this place and will not allow the impudent atmosphere to assert its power over hers. She longs ride the coming gale, to feel the rain soak her through and the lightning dance across her skin. She wants to surrender herself to it, as she so often had in her sky by the sea, but her control here is not yet sufficient. The wind's greedy urging is proof of that. This sky is still wild and untamed. It obeys her will for the novelty of it, not because it has accepted her dominance. It cannot yet be trusted. It's dangerous, and though that danger excites her, she knows better than to give into it now. Not if she wishes to retain her sanity.

She turns her back upon it, ignoring its petulant wail as she closes her doors firmly between herself and it. The impatient sky rails against her rejection and blows impotently against her shelter, buffeting the buildings with violent gusts. In its temper, it calls the waiting tempest and throws it against the city. Rain pours from the skies and flashfloods fill streets and streams with unnatural speed. Lightning splits the clouds and thunder shakes the ground.

Lady Doppler sits cross-legged on her narrow bed and ignores the tantrum outside. Instead she pulls her awareness inward toward a glass sphere she holds in her hand. It warms at her touch and its familiarity comforts her. Inside her head, it speaks to her in her mother's voice and she smiles as she loses herself in the recorded memory.

**Please Review if you want more. **


	36. Fog

The first sign that there was anything wrong was the fog. The night had been cool and, especially this close to the lake, fog was not uncommon in the mornings. But this fog was really thick. Joe had to slow the armored truck to a crawl, visibility was so bad. Still, a thick patch inside a fog bank wasn't anything too concerning. He told himself he was just being paranoid. Of course an armored car guard was paid to be paranoid.

The second sign of trouble was when the engine stalled, leaving them stopped on the side of the road. He cranked the engine, but it wouldn't start. This really set off the alarm bells in Joe's head. He banged on the bulkhead that separated the cab from the cargo area. "Hey, Carl. The engine's stalled and we're in the middle of a fog bank. I can't see more 'en a couple feet past the windows."

"Shit, that sounds suspicious," answered the hopper from the back of the truck.

"Yeah, I'm callin' it in." Joe picked up the radio and called in to base, only to be met with static. Just great, "Radio ain't workin'."

"Ah, hell," answered Carl. He sent a brief but heartfelt prayer to the heavens as he prepared for what was to come. Both men knew that Metro Man was not the only person in the city with superpowers. It was scary the sorts of unnatural things villains with powers could accomplish. They both knew they were about to get robbed. They drew their weapons and waited.

The minutes ticked by and nothing happened. Joe tried to start the engine several more times, with no results. Their adrenalin kept them both alert but eventually they started to notice their eyes becoming heavy. They were so sleepy. They blinked and it was hard to open their eyes again. Before sleep claimed him, Joe noticed what was happening and guessed that he was being gassed. Self-preservation won out over his duty to protect his truck and he opened the cab door, hoping to escape into clear air. It wasn't any easier to breath outside and he stumbled a few steps away before collapsing to his knees. He held his eyes open for as long as he could, but never saw anything but white until the darkness swallowed him.

When he awoke, the fog was dissipating. He stumbled back to his truck to find the bulkhead door open and several lockboxes empty. Carl was waking up, coughing for breath. "Shit." he said as he assessed their situation.

"Yeah," answered Joe, "Shit."

**Review please.**


	37. The Usual Suspect

**Sexual content in here. Not explicit, but as creepy as I could conveniently make it given the setting. You've been warned. **

Police arrive at the scene to investigate, but the only evidence that anything at all had happened is the absence of approximately $30,000 in unmarked bills and the testimony of the two witnesses. Police launch an investigation of the driver and hopper, as is standard procedure after an armored car heist. The CSI team lays even odds on it being an inside job.

Given the witness stories of a mysterious fog and something in the air that knocked them out, Metro Man is asked to track down the usual suspect. He doesn't find him until after nightfall.

Psycho Delic strolls through the darkened streets of the seediest part of Metro City. His broad-brimmed hat is pulled low over his head and sunglasses hide his eyes. A light breeze flutters the dyed quail feather in his cap and the thick fur collar on his coat. He taps his cane on the cracked pavement as he struts through his domain of urban decay.

Despite his gruesome face, he's approached by the hookers on every corner. They curry his favor, offering their services for free in hopes that he'll gift them with the potent hallucinogens that are his exclusive trade. By the end of the block he has a woman on each arm. They cling to him, pressing close as the drug-laced mist that surrounds him affects their perceptions. Their eyes are dilated and unnaturally bright, their breathing fast and excited. The man with the leathery purple skin stretched tight against his bones seems to them the most desirable man in the city.

He leads them down a dark alley and curtly orders the street people already occupying it to scram. They obey without hesitation and he leans back against a convenient wall as the blond street-walker kneels to unzip his fly and begins to use her tongue on what she finds inside. As her partner sucks on him, the red-head bares her chest and he pulls her towards him, bending down to trace his long tongue across a hardened nipple. Both women moan as they work, their senses reeling from the visions floating around them. The blonde believes she's sucking a fat peppermint stick and the red-head thinks she is covered in earth worms crawling across her skin, but likes the way it feels.

"Psycho Delic," sneers a booming voice in front of the scarred villain.

He opens his eyes to confirm that the white-clad superhero is in front of him, then closes them again, unconcerned. His women continue their attentions to him as he answers. "May I help you with something, Metro Man?" His voice is raspy and unnatural. It sends a shiver up the invulnerable hero's spine.

"Release the ladies," Metro Man orders him.

"No," he answers, "I like them where they are." He pauses to grunt involuntarily in pleasure before continuing. "Especially this one." He indicates the one kneeling with her mouth full. Metro Man tries to ignore the wet slurping noises the indicated woman is making as she pleasures the purple man. The other prostitute, jealous that he'd indicated he prefers the other one, nibbles and licks her way down his neck, her hands sliding past his coat, under the waistband of his pants, and around to fondle his balls from behind.

Metro Man waits until she moves her head lower on the villain's chest before throwing a punch at the scarred man's face. Pscho Delic dissolves into smoke before the blow lands and his ladies stumble into a pile on the asphalt with moans of disappointment. It doesn't last for long, though, as they find each other and begin slaking their drug-induced lust together.

Psycho Delic re-forms a few feet away, watching the ladies writhing against each other on the pavement. His too-wide grin appears as the rictus of a corpse on his face. He speaks to the waiting hero without looking at him. "What you want with me, Metro Man? You come here to rescue hoes?"

"Every citizen of Metro City is worthy of the protection of its hero."

"They don't want protection," answers Psycho Delic, "They want a high, a rush. They want what I can give them."

"You're a stain of evil upon this fair city."

Psycho Delic shrugs.

"Release them."

"Oh, I'm not doing anything to them. It's still in their blood, though. They won't come down for…oh…half an hour or so," he glances at Metro Man, "Your want to share them? I'll let you have first pick," he offers generously, "The blonde is good with her tongue." He watches as she pushes up her companion's skirt. "As her friend appears to have discovered," he observes with an appreciative leer.

"No," answers Metro Man with a clenched jaw. He grabs for the villain's arm to haul him off down the alley, but he evaporates into smoke again.

He re-forms a moment later, "When you figure out how to hold smoke, you can take me wherever you want. Until then, I'm planning to enjoy these lovely ladies' company. So, hurry up with what you have to say so I can get back to them." Psycho Delic knows Metro Man can't touch him. For all the hero's strength, the purple man just slips between his fingers every time.

"Maybe I can't haul you off, but I can take them."

"If you do, I'll just go pick up two of the others I passed by before. Then there'll be four junkies begging for my smoke, not just these two."

Metro Man fumes, knowing there's nothing he can do. He settles for turning his back on the oblivious women and trying to ignore them, "There was an armored truck robbery this morning. Know anything about it?"

"I may have heard something about it on the news," he answers, "I believe that woman reporter covered it. The one Megamind stole from you," he smirks at the hero, "I never did ask you. How is it that that little runt managed that? You having trouble satisfying your women?"

"Do I look like I have that problem?" Metro Man growls, evading the question. The truth is that he'd never been one to sleep around. The few lovers he'd had were women he'd been serious about, but he hadn't been in any kind of relationship, serious or not, for years. The hero gig seems to take all of his time, leaving him with little left over for a personal life, much less a sex life.

"Hey, even big guys have trouble sometimes," the smaller man sympathizes, "You know, I probably have something that could help you in that department. All natural… mostly. Makes Viagra look like Kool-Aid. It'll keep you hard for a week," the drug dealer promises.

"Not interested."

"It's really not anything to be ashamed of," her purrs, "Every superhero has his weaknesses."

"If I _had_ that particular weakness," replies Metro Man confidently, knowing that he doesn't, "I certainly wouldn't seek treatment from a back alley pusher like you."

"Aw, now that really hurts," Psycho Delic protests, a hand to his bare chest, "I'm providing a public service here."

Metro Man refuses to be side-tracked any longer. "The armored truck heist?" he prompts.

"Are you implying that I had something to do with that?" he rasps innocently.

"Implying is not a strong enough word," Metro Man sneers.

"Why would you think that?" he inquires, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from his coat sleeve. "Doesn't sound like my work."

"You did the same thing last year!" accuses the hero, "The obscuring mist, disabled truck, drugged guards… Sound familiar?"

"Not actually. If I recall, the reporter said today's fun involved unconscious guards. In the heist last year, the guards were very much awake: hearing voices, seeing things, screaming. One shot the other in the face, didn't he? And then he cut off three of his own fingers with his pocketknife and ate them? It was so delightfully gruesome," Psycho Delic laughs at the memory, "Not that I had anything to do with it…" he belatedly insists, knowing there isn't any doubt that he's responsible.

"So, you've refined your technique," argues Metro Man.

"Much as I'd love to take credit, it wasn't me," the purple man confides. He's actually very interested in who _did_ pull off the crime, because it was right on the edge of his territory. He doesn't like the idea of a new villain honing in on his turf. Oddly, the hero believes him. If he'd been responsible, the villain would be bragging by now.

"Who else could it be?" Metro Man asks, hoping Psycho Delic will feel like giving him an answer.

"How should I know?" he snaps, "But, I'll tell you what, big guy," he reaches out to pat the hero's forearm. Metro Man flinches back in disgust, "I'm always looking for new talent. If I find out who it is, I'll be sure to invite him into the Syndicate. That job was a damn fine demo. And with your recommendation, I'm sure whoever it is will be a shoe-in. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

Metro Man vents his frustration by swinging at the villain again, knowing it won't connect but taking some pleasure in forcing him to dissolve into smoke. Disembodied laughter floats in the air as the cloud of purple smoke drifts back to the moaning women. "Are you sure you won't join me?" Psycho Delic asks as he solidifies. He lifts one of the women by the arm and turns her toward the hero. Her shirt is open and her breasts bare, "No charge," he offers.

Metro Man scoffs in disgust and launches himself into the air, eager to put as much distance between himself and the villain as possible. Just talking to the man makes him feel soiled. But he did find out one piece of valuable information. The armored truck job wasn't Psycho Delic's work. But if not him, then who?

**Wayne's pretty powerless against Psycho Delic. How does one fight smoke? **

**Review please. **


	38. Dancing with the Wind

A haunting melody drifts through the air surrounding one block in downtown Metro City. Citizens look around themselves, wondering where it's coming from, but cannot find its source.

On the roof of an apartment building, Lady Doppler paces, her footsteps measuring time to the music she's playing on her silver flute. The wind twists around her, whistling and howling in counterpoint to her tune. Together they dance.


	39. Stealing from the Blind

On a city street corner near the entrance to a subway station, a blind woman opens a white case and removes the silver instrument she finds within. She assembles it and sets the open case on the ground in front of her. She lifts the flute to her lips and begins to play a slow melody.

Commuters pass by on their way in and out of the station, sometimes dropping coins or the occasional bill into the woman's case. She concentrates on her music and seems oblivious to her audience, but the music slowly draws a crowd. A playful breeze finds the performer and tugs at her hair, seeming to twist around her as she plays. As she finishes the tune, the crowd claps and then disperses eager to reach their trains or their homes. Alone on the empty street corner, the woman sips from a bottle of water to prepare for the next song.

A man wearing a long purple coat despite the heat walks by the performer and, without breaking stride, reached down to scoop the blind woman's pay from her case.

"Don't try it," she tells the man just before he touches her money.

He pulls his hand back and sticks it casually in his pocket as he straightens again, "Try what, my dear?"

"It's awfully low to steal from a blind woman," she tells him.

"Not so blind as you look," he observes, "Maybe I'll give you something in exchange, then," he offers. He sends a tendril of purple-tinged smoke toward her mouth and nose. Unexpectedly, the smoke swirls away from her a few inches from her face. It spreads around her, seeking an opening without finding one.

"Enough!" A breeze blows past, dispersing the smoke into the atmosphere and spreading it thin enough to render it ineffective and harmless. "Keep your smoke to yourself, mutant," she sneers at him.

"How did you do that?" He asks, awed to have found someone who can counter his power. He wonders what she is and how he can use her.

"Does it matter?" she asks.

His leathery purple skin stretches into a horrifying grin, baring crooked yellow teeth. "It might. I think the two of us should talk," he purrs, "Perhaps we can work together."

"Are you a street performer as well?" she asks innocently.

He steps over her flute case and close to her side. She holds her ground, a look of mild disgust on her face. "It's always good to have friends," he croons.

"I think I can do without friends like you," she tells him.

"Are you sure?" he asks, moving even closer and breathing into her ear, "I can be very friendly."

Without warning, she brings her knee up to ram into his crotch. He neatly sidesteps, reaching for her arm. She twists out of his grasp and aims a punch at his ugly face, but he transforms into smoke before the blow can land. Instead of being thwarted by her insubstantial foe, she laughs and calls a small whirlwind to her. He's pulled into the vortex and, though he struggles, he can't free himself.

"Little smoke-man, you're out of your league." The whirlwind stills and is replaced by a strong wind which breaks up the sentient haze and scatters it throughout the city. It takes hours for Psycho Dellic to gather his scattered smoke and reform into a solid state. By that time the blind flutist is long gone.


	40. Independence Day

**This chapter has been kicking my butt. It's over 8,000 words, which is huge for me. And that doesn't count all the stuff I cut as being too much to reveal at this point. Gah. Anyway. It's finally done. It's possible I should have read it through a couple more times for proofing, but I just want to get this thing posted so I can go on to the next part. So, please ignore the inevitable mistakes. Thanks. **

It's Independence Day and the air is oppressively hot in Metro City. The temperature is in the high nineties and humid. The only reason people are outside at all is because it's a holiday and it's tradition to be outside on the Fourth of July. The sun will be setting in an hour or so, a fact the citizen are hoping will bring cooler temperatures. At one particular apartment building the residents have gathered for a holiday barbeque on the roof, where they will soon have a spectacular view of the fireworks over the lake.

Someone had thought to bring several box fans up to churn the sluggish air into an artificial breeze. The neighbors had gathered in friendly clumps in front of the humming fan blades, gossiping and catching up on each other's lives, but as the afternoon wore on, most of them wandered inside again, planning to return when it was dark.

One woman remains outside because, despite the heat, she prefers open sky over her head rather than the confining walls of her neat little apartment. She doesn't need any whirring fan blades to create a pleasant breeze around her. She sits apart from the few others, all men, who are still gathered outside to smoke cigarettes and discuss baseball stats. She rests on the short wall along the very edge of the roof. She dangles one leg carelessly over the far side, her sandal hanging precariously from her toes, trusting the air not to let it fall. With only the slightest encouragement, the atmosphere lovingly caresses her with its sultry breeze.

Lost in her own thoughts, she is surprised when she feels the approach of a man holding two drink cans. She isn't sure if he's holding soda or alcohol until he says, "I brought you a beer," and offers her one.

Without turning, she answers, "Thank you, Mr. Stewart, but I don't drink alcohol. It clouds my perceptions and I'll end up bumping into things."

"Yeah. I have the same problem, but it takes more than one can," he tells her, "I wasn't trying to get you drunk. It's just one beer. You sure you don't want it? It's free." Free is a magic word to Hal Stewart. The building's owner hosts this party every year and all the food and drink are provided. That virtually guaranteed Hal's presence; even back when this was merely his mother's building, before his unemployed status had forced him to move in with her.

"And it tastes vile," she continues. She is not sitting on the roof to take advantage of the free food and beer. Instead, she had come up to make polite conversation with her neighbors and establish herself as a normal resident of the city. Someone who no one would suspect of petty theft, much less outright villainy. Her hair is neatly braided and coiled into a bun to disguise its length. She wears dark glasses, normal clothes, and taps a white cane in front of her when she walks. People are so easily fooled by disguises and she is careful to always wear her eye-catching super suit whenever she plans to make overt use of her powers. With luck, it will be months before the public at large connects Lady Doppler, the local blind woman, with the mysterious new super flying through Metro City. By then it won't matter. Her command of the skies will be complete and no one except Metro Man will be able to stop her, and maybe not even him.

Unfortunately her chore of socializing with the residents has put her in contact with Mr. Stewart more often than she'd prefer. Now, since nearly everyone else had gone inside, she has his undivided attention. She considers going inside herself, but the wind whines for her to stay out longer and play with it.

He shrugs, "More for me, then," he answers, happy to have two beers and no obligation to share. He sits on the ledge next to her and puts one of his cans down in order to pop the top on the other. With a flick of her power, she excites the carbon dioxide in the beer, causing it to foam up over the side of the can, startling the man and soaking his hand and splattering his jeans. "Aw, Fun-tastic. Beer all over the place." he mutters, shaking the spilled alcohol off his hand and then wiping it dry on his shirt. She giggles. "Yeah," he grouses, "Laugh at the really cool guy."

"I'm sorry, that wasn't very nice of me," she says. She means it was mean to cause his beer to foam over, but knows he'll think she's apologizing for laughing at him. Truly, she's sorry for neither one, but it's what he expects her to say.

"S'okay," he answers, "I wonder who shook up the can. Almost half of it wasted on the roof," he shakes his head sadly, "Now that's alcohol abuse. I bet it was Petey. He's always doing crap like that. Oh well. I got two." He takes a swig of his slightly flat beer. He glances over the low wall they're sitting on and realizes just how high up they are. He sways slightly. "I guess you don't get scared of heights if you can't look down," he observes.

"Oh, I know exactly how far down it is, Mr. Stewart," she smiles in his general direction. He looks at her curiously, wondering how she'd know that. As if reading his mind (because he knows she can't see his face) she explains "The apartment building has twenty floors and each one is approximately 10 feet. So, we are roughly 200 feet up. Much further than one would wish to fall. Though, once you get above two or three stories it doesn't much matter how high you are. You're still just as dead. Unless you can fly," she smiles, an oddly manic expression, he thinks, "Don't worry. I won't fall."

"If you say so," he answers, not convinced.

"_You_ might want to get back from the edge, though," she tells him, sending a gust of wind toward him to make him sway dangerously, "You sound a bit uneasy about the height." She hopes his nervousness will make him wander back over to the other men and leave her alone.

He clutches at the wall hastily; glad to think she didn't see that. She hides her amusement and turns her attention back to the sky, pointedly ignoring him. She hums a familiar tune that requires no concentration and uses the echo of its notes to enhance the mental image of her surroundings provided by her wind-sense. She 'sees' a plastic shopping bag caught in the wind in the distance, and she practices making it waft this way and that, trying to perfect her control so she can move it exactly as she wants to. Once she's sure she has it, she tries a more complicated exercise. She spots a sparrow in flight and, without interfering with the bird's trajectory, she maneuvers the bag to scoop the tiny thing out of the air. She releases it and performs the trick several more times, much to the distress of the bird. Finally she lets the terrified thing go and concentrates on doing the same thing to a seagull that's also in flight nearby. Though it presents a larger target, there's also less room for error and the shore bird is more than capable of fighting off the bag. It takes her three tries to capture the gull and by the end the bag is so battered that it isn't of any further use. So, she releases both the bird and the bag from her control, letting them each fly where they will.

The last straggling smokers from the party wander inside, dashing her hopes that her companion will join them. Hal sits on the ledge watching his new dream girl while drinking his cheap beer. He shakes the last drop out of his second can and crushes it and its predecessor against the brick wall he's still perched on. He launches one can into the air and watches it fall right into the large trash can 10 yards away next to the food table. "Oh, yeah! Slam dunk!" he crows happily. He tosses the second crushed beer can but Lady Doppler blows it off course, making it miss by 5 or 6 feet. He groans in disappointment, and then promptly forgets about it, leaving it to litter the roof where it fell.

"Hey, I was wondering. If you're new to the city, you probably don't have many friends here yet. I'm DMing a D&D game this Saturday. You're welcome to join if you want. Roll some dice, kill some monsters, eat some dip? You'd make a kick-ass elf sorceress, I bet." He imagines her with pointed ears and a long clingy gown with a low neckline and a bodice that pushes her cleavage up. Yes, she'd make an excellent elf. He reflects that the angles of her face even look a bit exotic and wonders at her ancestry. He bets she has some Asian or maybe Polynesian in her family.

"That is very tempting, Mr. Stewart," she lies, "But I'm afraid I'll have to decline."

"You ever tried table-top gaming?" He suspects that, like most women, she doesn't really know anything about tabletop RPGs and he decides to educate her. "I know most people just think it's a bunch of geeks sitting around a table making Lord of the Rings references, but it's really just a social game. Something to do while getting together with your buds. And there's no reason chicks can't play. We had one in our group about a year ago, but we lost her when she moved to Gotham City. I guess we'd have to type up a Braille character sheet for you, but we could figure out something. I'm sure the guys would love you to join us."

That's actually rather thoughtful of him, but she has no interest in playing fantasy games. "No, really. I appreciate the offer but I don't think I'd enjoy sitting around a table rolling dice for an afternoon." She's familiar enough with the game to know that dice and little metal figures are involved, but that's about it. "I'd rather be out under the open sky."

"Oh, you're more of an active girl, then. You play sports or something?" He's not sure what sports a blind woman can play, but he knows that Metro City has several 'special' teams for people with disabilities. He just isn't sure what they are.

"Not sports. I'm not much of a team player. But being cooped up away from the wind makes me feel like I'm in a cell. So, I stay outdoors as much as I can." In fact, that is one reason she'd chosen this apartment complex for her home. She was able to get a reasonably nice unit with a generous balcony way up on the 19th floor. It had wide French doors and plenty of operable windows which she nearly always kept wide open. It was the next best thing to living outside.

Her love of the outdoors makes sense to Hal. A woman doesn't keep a figure like that sitting around on the couch. It takes work. He begins to worry that the two of them might not have anything in common. He's rarely outside if he can help it. He wonders how she manages to stay out in the sun all the time without getting a sunburn. He burns easily and will probably be peeling tomorrow after spending the whole afternoon out here on the roof. Her skin is even paler than his, and he's a red-head. He thinks she might be an albino, which he believes would explain the white hair. She doesn't have even a hint of a tan. Weird. "You can't stay outside _all_ the time. What do you like to do when the weather's bad?"

_I go flying_, she thinks, but instead sighs in annoyance and answers, "I read and listen to the radio. I practice my flute. I research… business opportunities. Sometimes I go out to a club or a concert."

"You like to go to clubs?" he asks excitedly, happy to find something they both enjoy, "Well, maybe I could take you out to one sometime. They've got this great comedy club downtown called The Fun House. We could hang out, catch a show…"

If the offer had come from a man she was attracted to, it would be welcome. But, unfortunately, Mr. Stewart is not her ideal date. She doesn't mind conversing with him for a few minutes on occasions like today, but the prospect of spending several hours in his exclusive company is unappealing to say the least. Though friendly enough, the man is a boor, his interests are juvenile, and his personal grooming habits are not up to her standards. If they had more in common perhaps she'd overlook his flaws. As it is, however, she is profoundly uninterested. "That sounds interesting, but I'm really very busy this week. So, I wouldn't be able to make it," she tells him cooly.

He isn't going to let it go, however, "Hey, we can go anytime. They're open every night except Mondays and Tuesdays. So, it doesn't have to be this weekend. In fact, I think they're open tonight. We could head over after the fireworks."

In her annoyance, she allows the wind to whip around her to blow in his face, pushing him backward slightly. He doesn't notice. "That's really nice but—"

"I mean, I know you probably have trouble with going to movies or something, but a comedy club should work. I mean, it's mostly a guy standing there telling jokes. You don't need your eyes to get it. Unless it's a prop comedy act, I guess. But we can check the line-up before we go."

It is actually very sweet that he'd consider her disability when suggesting activities. Unfortunately, she still isn't interested. "I wouldn't want to put you out. I'm sure tickets are expensive—"

"For you, pretty lady, I'm willing to splurge. Besides, I can afford it. I'm on unemployment now and I'm not paying rent. So, I got some cash. But if you're worried about it, I think the Wednesday night show is cheaper because it's amateur night."

"I'd really rather not, Mr. Stewart…" Though she keeps her words pleasant, her temper is beginning to show. Why won't he let it go? The pleasant breeze that has surrounded her throughout the afternoon is now undeniably a wind. It tugs at Hal's hair, whipping the longer strands into his eyes viciously. The air and its mistress both want him to leave, but he remains where he is. Over the city, the cheerful, cottony cloud puffs are expanding and joining together.

Hal considers letting the matter drop and trying again later. But isn't that what he'd always done with Roxanne? Let her put him off time after time? And what did that get him? Nothing! And now she's married to that little blue freak! Well, he's not going to let that happen with Miss Doppler. He's determined not to lose his shot again. "We could go Dutch, if you want to be all independent and pay your own way," he suggests amiably. If she wants to pay her half, that would just mean he could afford to take her out twice as often.

"No, Mr. Stewart, I don't want to attend a comedy show with you," she states clearly. The sky does not like Hal's disregard for its lady wishes and wants to pick him up and hurl him from the roof. She calms it, insisting it's not necessary, and the jealous wind subsides for the moment. She stands, picks up her cane, and begins to walk towards the doorway that opens to the stairs down.

Hal Stewart follows her. "Okay, okay. No comedy club, but I want to take you out somewhere," he insists, "Someone should show you around the city. Being new her, you need someone to help you learn you way around."

"I can find my way just fine. I am not as helpless as I appear," she snaps, the wind swirling around her and making the lose wisps of her hair fly in the gust.

Obliviously, he plows on, "Oh, I know that. You must have all the blind stuff figured out if you're living on your own like you are. But it always helps to have someone around to lend a hand. If nothing else, I could drive you around so you don't have to take the bus. You know, take you shopping or whatever." He hates shopping, but for her he's eager to tag along and carry her bags.

She pauses in front of the doorway and turns toward him as she tells him, "Mr. Stewart, I appreciate that you are offering to help me. It's really very kind of you. But you are not listening." She rubs her eyes in frustration, "I am far from helpless and I do not want your assistance. Although I'm sure you're a fine neighbor, I do _not_ want to see you socially." The overcast sky rumbles ominously.

"You don't even know me yet. Give me a chance," he pleads desperately.

"I already know you _quite_ well enough," she declares stiffly. She reaches for the door handle, forgetting in her haste to fumble and feel for it, but Hal doesn't notice. She turns the knob and pulls it half open before he puts his hand out and pushes it closed again. Though he's not actually touching her, she feels trapped between him and the door.

"Is it because I don't have a job?" He knows that being out of work makes him look like a loser and he's determined to prove that he isn't, "Because I'll be working again any day now. I have applications out all over. It's only a matter of time before I get accepted somewhere."

She wracks her brain for an acceptable way to refuse his persistent invitations and make her escape. He just won't take no for an answer. Blast! If he keeps this up, she's going to blow him off the roof from pure frustration. At this rate, if she goes inside, the sky might even do it for her all on its own! She briefly considers the benefits of the man's death, but decides it isn't worth it. He's only a human, and a fairly weak one at that. He's hardly a match for her. But he _is_ a match for the lone blind woman she's pretending to be. She doesn't want to blow her cover if she can help it. She could punch him or knee him in the groin, but getting into physical fights with her neighbors is not a good way to blend in. If only she had a distraction! She casts her senses outward to find anything that might be useful and finds a familiar void hanging in the sky nearby. She asks the wind to push the confused hero in her direction and is relieved when he complies with her prodding. Once he's in view, she does her best to look scared and helpless, making sure not to let on to Hal that she knows the hero is there.

Hal's back is to the city's protector and he's startled to hear the man's booming voice behind him. "Miss?" he asks, uncertain why she's playing the helpless damsel. "Is this man bothering you?" he guesses.

Hal whips around and gapes at the spandex-clad man, "Metro Man!"

"Hello, citizen. Is there a problem here?" He beams a superhero smile at the red-haired man.

"No. No problem at all. I was just chatting with the lady here—"

"Metro Man?" gasps Lady Doppler in awe, "Thank the heavens!" She ducks under Hal's arm and hurries over to the superhero, making a show of reaching out to feel for his arm before grasping it and clinging to his side, "Mr. Stewart here wouldn't leave me alone, even when I told him I wasn't interested in him."

The massive hero regards the beautiful white-haired woman with a raised eyebrow. She inconspicuously kicks his heel with her foot. It doesn't hurt, but he gets her point. "Sir, I think you should leave the lady alone," the hero advises, "She's not interested. Please, return to your home." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Now."

Hal is familiar enough with the hero to know the man won't touch him without provocation. Still, he's a superhero and Hal is nothing compared to him. "Fine," Hal spits, "Un-freaking-believable!" He wrenches the door open again and stalks down the stairs, muttering darkly to himself about space aliens stealing all his girls.

As soon as he is gone, Lady Doppler relaxes and drops her blind woman act. There's no reason to continue the pretense when Metro Man knows perfectly well that she's not what she seems. "Thank you." She steps away from him and the wind spins around her for a moment, so pleased to have her away from Hal that it lifts her playfully off her feet. She laughs at it indulgently and reclines in its embrace, her hands linked casually behind her head as she floats. "Much longer and I would have snapped and dangled him off the side of the roof for awhile. The wind wanted to just push him off the building and be done with it. Neither one would have helped me stay inconspicuous."

"Or stay on the side of truth and justice," he points out.

"True," she agrees good-naturedly, although she doesn't really concern herself with truth and justice very often.

Metro Man grins like an idiot while watching her drift effortlessly in the wind. _There's just something about a woman that flies,_ he thinks to himself. He realizes neither of them is saying anything and that it's his turn to speak. "What's your name?" he asks. She hadn't even spoken to him when he'd seen her before, much less introduced herself.

"Lady Doppler," she answers.

Metro Man's own mother is the Lady Scott, so he's used to hearing the title 'Lady'. However, it's rare in the U.S. to find a woman who can legitimately claim it. Most often, when used by supers, it's just part of their professional name. Both heroes and villains routinely adopt fanciful pseudonyms to describe themselves or their powers. It helps to give them some measure of privacy in their day-to-day lives. It's something Metro Man wishes he had handled better himself. Although his superhero name is Metro Man, the whole city knows he's really Wayne Scott. He has no private life. Of course there are some supers, like his rival Megamind, who only have one name. He wonders which it is with her. "Is that your real name?"

"No," she admits. "I have lots of names. Usually the media makes up something for me. Something weather-related. I've been Cyclonewoman, Windy Whitehair, Windwoman, Galveston Gale, Toronto Tempest, Cloud Surfer, Zephyra, Torrent, Tornadia... So many I can't remember them all. It sounds like Metro City's decided to call me Whirlwind. But Lady Doppler's the name I gave myself when I was seventeen," she answers, "So that's what I use privately."

"What were you called before that?"

She scowls at him. "Specimen A-12," she answers darkly.

His mouth falls open. He thinks he knows what that means. It's probably the worst things that can happen to someone with superpowers, though officially it never happens at all. He closes his mouth and swallows loudly. "You were raised in a laboratory."

It wasn't a question, but she answers anyway. "Yes. I spent my childhood in the custody of the ASCA."

He's heard of the ASCA. It's a semi-secret private organization charged with the task of controlling out-of-control supers. There have been rumors for years about their appallingly unethical training and research practices, but no one's ever filed charges. People who complain too loudly have a tendency to disappear. He's never met anyone who's had first-hand experience with them. "Did they make you like this?" he asks, gesturing vaguely toward her, "Did they give you your powers?" He imagines a terrified white-haired girl enduring radiation exposure or chemical injections in order to induce a desired mutation. It breaks his super heart to think of this beautiful woman enduring something like that as a girl.

"No. My gifts are natural," she answers with pride, "I'm not a _mutant_," she sneers at the word, as if it were something distasteful. "The researchers studied me, tested me, tried to isolate the source of my power, but they didn't create me."

He wonders how her powers could be natural without being a mutation. Normal humans can't do what she does. More disturbing, however is the idea of her being a test subject. That absolutely chills him. "What sort of tests?" he asks in a low voice.

She doesn't answer immediately. Her jaw clenches and the wind picks up, sending tiny bits of debris from the roof swirling around her, stinging her skin where they hit. She lowers her feet to the ground and paces away from him, her arms crossed over her chest as if she's cold despite the searing heat of the day. She considers ignoring the question. It's something she never talks about. But part of her reason for moving to Metro City is to get into this man's good graces. Sharing the travesty of her childhood would certainly earn his sympathy, which may be useful. She takes a deep breath and decides to use what she has.

"Horrible tests. You can't imagine. The _bastards_ liked hurting people and used _research_ as their excuse." Her hands are actually shaking. She chides herself. It all happened years ago. There's no sense getting upset over it now. She balls her hands into fists at her side, refusing to let her past overwhelm her. "They forced me to fight other captives to test my powers. They put me through endurance tests to find my breaking point. Surgery to collect tissue samples from my _internal organs_. Injections of toxins, drugs, and infectious agents just to see how my body would react to them. Always looking for ways to control me or to use me to control others." She pauses, considering whether or not to share the ASCA's crowning offense against her. Oh well, if she's going for sympathy, she might as well lay out her highest card. So, she whispers, "Rape thinly veiled as 'breeding experiments'." She kicks Hal's forgotten beer can and it sails off the roof. Thunder rumbles and a flash of lightning brightens the darkening sky.

Metro Man's eyes widen, it's worse than he'd feared. He floats over to her side and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Who did this to you?" he demands, "I'll personally see to it that they're brought to justice for their crimes."

She shakes her head and pushes his hand away. She says in a remarkably calm voice, "No need. Everyone who hurt me died twenty years ago." _The night I escaped. _

"You killed them?" he guesses with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. _No, _he prays, _don't let her be a murderer. She can't be a villain. _

"No," she answers quietly. "I would have," she insists, "I really would have. They deserved it a hundred times over. But… I couldn't." She turns away from him again and sits in mid-air, her knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped around them. "They had a level four mind-controller on staff. There was no mistaking him for a human. Huge head, weird slanting eyes, a little squat body with short legs and long arms. He'd been the ASCA's fifth alien specimen. The first one to survive testing. They'd recruited him once they figured out what he could do. Or maybe he _convinced_ them to recruit him. You can never tell for sure with a psionic." She shrugs. It doesn't matter. "His name was Grek'ulzir, though some of the staff still called him A-5.

"You might expect an alien shaped like him to be some sort of benevolent creatures of intellect like they are in the science fiction stories. But those are just stories. I don't know if all his people are like him, but he was a _disgusting_ little man." Just thinking of the alien makes her skin crawl, "He only tolerated working for humans because they gave him what he wanted: plenty of unshielded minds and permission to do just about anything he wanted with them. I always thought he was stuck on Earth because no one else in the galaxy would put up with him.

"Grek'ulzir's powers were strong enough to keep me docile for years, no matter what they did to me. Inside my head, I'd be screaming, but outside I'd do anything they asked me to. They _violated_ me for _years_, and that evil _MIND-LEECH_ would make me _beg_ for more!" She steps onto the roof again, stamping her feet as she lands. Her whole body shakes in fury at the memory. More thunder from the sky.

She stands there for a long moment, seeking calm. The wind blows gently around her, soothing her with its soft caress. "Unfortunately for him, I was getting stronger. Eventually, he couldn't keep me tame anymore. The idiot should have told them I was starting to slip his leash, but he was too proud to admit a seventeen-year-old girl was getting past him. The second my mind was free, I killed him," she admits. She smiles as she recalls his broken body lying limp on tile floor. She'd cracked that giant head open like an egg and it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever known. She'd been so happy, she remembers. The halls had rung with her laughter as she flew down them, seeking the doorway that would lead her to the outside world.

As she told her story, he'd been watching for the subtle cues that indicate a lie. He hadn't seen any. He thinks she's telling the truth. It was self-defense, or she believed it was. A drastic action under desperate circumstances. But her grin makes Metro Man uncomfortable. Had she actually enjoyed killing her captor? One should not enjoy killing, no matter how necessary it may be. That way lies evil and madness. A line Metro Man has never crossed.

She continues her story, unaware of his misgivings. "He's the only one of them I killed. Maybe I would have gotten away if I'd kill them all as soon as my mind was free. Sometimes I think I should have. But I was only seventeen. I wasn't ruthless enough." Her smile disappears as she recalls her botched escape attempt, "They caught me easily.

"If there's one thing the ASCA knows, it's controlling supers. After that incident, they kept me drugged until the powers-that-be could decide what to do with me. I was valuable property, but only if I could be controlled. They tested me again and figured out that it would take a level five mind-controller to keep me docile, and there were only three or four of those on the entire planet. None were on the ASCA's payroll. If they just kept me drugged forever I'd be useless; a waste of their resources. They put in a request to authorize my termination and they were just waiting for the go-ahead," she smiles humorlessly at the hero, "I scared them to death and it was their own fault. If they'd raised me with kindness, I'd probably be a loyal little soldier for them today. But the only way they know to control anyone is by force and fear.

"When it happened, I was so drugged that I couldn't fly. I could barely even use my gifts to 'see', let alone command the weather. They thought they were safe if they just drugged me enough that I couldn't call the wind, but it doesn't work that way. They never understood what my gifts really were. It wasn't just me that they needed to worry about. The sky always has a will of its own. And it loved me." She'd grown up under that sky. Together they'd explored her power and pushed the boundaries imposed by Grek'ulzir's mind. It had been her best friend, her first lover. Even the drugs couldn't completely suppress their bond. "It couldn't stand to see me hurt any longer and it knew I was in danger. So, it busted me out with a tornado." Like an enraged god, it had swept down to smite her enemies as if they were no more than insects. "It killed every last one of the bastards and all but 6 of the other captives. I've been pretty much on my own ever since. Just me and the wind."

Metro Man doesn't know what to say. He still doesn't detect any hint of a lie in her story and is inclined to believe her. If true, she survived something horrendous. Expressions of sympathy seem so inadequate, but what else can he give her? "I'm so sorry you went through that," he tells her awkwardly, but sincerely. Again he puts his hand on her shoulder, offering comfort, but careful not to push. This time she leans towards him and his arm slides across her shoulders. She rests her head on his massive chest and he resists the impulse to kiss the top of her head. "Does the ASCA still… do those things?" he asks, thinking he should make sure no other supers are ever subjected to that kind of treatment. He had no idea the ASCA was operating on that scale of evil.

"Probably, but I don't know. I haven't been to any of their other facilities. I stay as far away from them as I can. I'll never let anyone have that kind of power over me ever again," she vows.

He nods, completely understanding those sentiments. He decides to start sending out queries in the superhero community tomorrow. If the ASCA is committing atrocities like Lady Doppler alleges, it's clearly time for someone to stand up to them. And, since the ASCA specializes in controlling supers, it's probably not something he should risk tackling on his own. Who knows? They might even be able to control _him, _something even Megamind had never managed.

But that's something to worry about tomorrow. As he holds her, he thinks back over her story. There's one detail that bothers him. "You said you were A-12, and Grek-whatever-his-name-was was A-5. How many captives were at the facility?"

"I'm not sure," she answers uncertainly, "Thirty? Forty? It varied."

"And you were only the 12th?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "No. The ASCA's been operating for decades. Most of the captives were designated S, not A. They were up to at least S-325 when I was there."

"What made you an A?" He suspects he already knows. The organization is the _Alien_ and Superhuman Control Agency. But, perhaps in this case the A just indicated a particularly high level of superpowers or something. He could be reading more into it than there was.

"Alien," she answers, confirming his suspicion.

"You're…"

"Not from around here," she agrees with a smile, "Like you."

_Like me,_ he thinks. He wonders how much like him.

The sky is nearly dark and the door to the stairway suddenly opens. A couple from the fourth floor walk out carrying lawn chairs, followed by their two children who are excited to be allowed up past their bedtimes. They're all ready to enjoy the fireworks which are scheduled to begin soon. Lady Doppler steps away from Metro Man quickly, making sure her feet are in firm contact with the roof. She grips her white cane. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere else," she suggests very quietly so her neighbors would not overhear, "Give me a minute to change clothes and I'll meet you in the sky." She turns away and begins to tap her way toward the door.

"Wait," he tells her, grabbing her hand to stop her before she leaves his side. He jerks his head in the direction of the rumbling sky. "Could you call off the storm? It would be a shame to rain out the fireworks display."

She looks startled, not having noticed the sky's response to her turbulent mood. She takes a deep calming breath and closes her eyes in concentration. Soon the thunder ceases and the clouds seem less ominous. "Sorry," she says, "This sky is still getting used to my moods. It doesn't like it when I'm angry."

"Remind me not to get you angry."

She smiles then, tapping her cane in front of her for show, finds the door and disappears down the stairs. Metro Man x-rays through the closed door for a long moment, watching her climb down the stairs. He scolds himself for staring at her rear as she descends. It's very unheroic behavior, even if she can't tell he's doing it. He shakes himself and leaps into the sky before her neighbors can begin asking him questions or begging for autographs.

He hovers above the rooftops, watching the city and her building in particular. After a few minutes, he notices her standing just inside a balcony doorway. He hears her make a series of sharp clicks with her tongue and watches her tilt her head to the side, listening. Apparently satisfied, she steps out where he can see her better. She's wearing her spandex super suit again. Her hair is loose and falls to her ankles. Her four-inch heels click across the balcony floor. He thinks she looks stunning. With a helpful push from the wind, she steps up onto the top of her balcony rail and dives gracefully into thin air. Metro Man grins in admiration as her dive turns to a swoop and she floats up above the rooftops to join him where he's floating.

She grins at him mischievously and then deliberately pokes his arm with her index finger, "Tag. You're it," she declares before hurrying away on a gust of wind. She hasn't flown all day and the wind is positively whining for some attention. "Catch me if you can! And no fair using super speed," she calls as she races across the sky. The hero chuckles and speeds off in pursuit. The wind whistles, happy to have two playmates tonight, even though only its Lady will speak to it.

They play tag for ten minutes, switching places as _it_ several times before Metro Man hears his name called from the city below. He rushes off to extinguish a roof fire caused by an illegal bottle rocket. Metro City has an ordinance against fireworks within the city limits, but it is blithely ignored by everyone, including the police. It's only enforced if someone complains, which rarely happens, or if the fireworks cause damages. It's the Fourth of July. There are _supposed_ to be illegal fireworks. It's traditional.

On the way back, he confiscates a keg of beer from some under-aged kids at an unsupervised party. After dumping the beer and dropping the empty keg off at a recycling center, he spots Lady Doppler waiting in the sky. She's floating a safe distance from the official fireworks display, now in full swing over the lake. She occasionally dodges a particularly high-flying bottle rocket or mortar from one of the many private celebrations taking place in the city below.

As he approaches her, a bottle rocket hits him in the rear and explodes on impact. She giggles at him. "Do you really think the Fourth of July is a good night to go flying?" he asks her, trying to brush the singe-marks from his super suit.

"Surely you're not afraid of a few bottle rockets," she suggests, laughing at his caution and the state of his tights.

"No," he answers, "But I'm invulnerable. Are you?"

She thinks it's cute of him to worry about her. But it isn't really necessary. "No, but I won't be foolish enough to fly in the path of the fireworks, like you. Besides, I'm tougher than I look," she tells him confidently. She casually moves to the side as another small rocket streaks through the sky, popping a few feet above her with a little burst of light.

He's reminded again that she isn't exactly helpless. "Can you actually see the display?" he asks curiously. He's not sure exactly what her limitations and gifts are.

"Oh, yes," she answers, "I can sense the shape and intensity of the explosion in the air. It's exciting to feel." She gasps as another of the city's fireworks blooms in the air. "And if I adjust the oxygen levels just a little…" The next explosion blooms even larger as she coaxes the maximum amount of energy from the charge. The crowd of citizens all go "OOoooo…" as it fades away and she beams at her small accomplishment. She giggles and performs a midair back-flip.

She floats over to Metro Man and pushes her shoulder into his. It's a bit like ramming a marble statue. "I bet you can't beat that!" she teases him.

"Really? Hmm…" He floats higher and looks around. Soon he spies a group of teenagers engaging in a bottle rocket fight. With a self-righteous swagger, he confiscates their fun and leaves them grumbling behind him. Back in the air, he braids the bottle rocket fuses together to create one large firework. Holding it by the stick in his right hand, he places his left index finger to his temple and focuses his laser vision on the bundled explosive. It ignites with a series of pops and flares, which he thinks is impressive. He turns, grinning toward Lady Doppler.

She's unimpressed. When she's sure she has his attention she observes dryly, "Mine was better."

He has a sudden impulse to stick his tongue out at her, something he hasn't done since he was a boy. "You were working with professional-grade fireworks. Mine were bottle rockets."

"_Stolen_ bottle rockets," she accuses him primly, as if the petty theft actually bothered her. It doesn't, of course, but she finds it amusing to pretend.

"_Confiscated_ bottle rockets," he sniffs, "There's a difference."

She laughs again and floats closer to him, leaning her head on his huge bicep. He likes having her close and wraps his arm around her narrow waist to keep her from drifting away in the wind. She doesn't protest the move. He feels like a teenager having just snuck his arm around his date in the movie theater. They sit there in companionable silence for several minutes, watching the fireworks show.

"So…" he starts, not knowing exactly how to pick up their conversation from before. "You said…you're an alien."

"Yes."

"A _space_ alien? We're not talking about citizenship and whether or not you have a green card, right?

"Right. Although, technically… I _don't_ have a green card." She coyly traces he index finger along the edge of the M logo stitched onto his spandex-covered chest. "You won't deport me, will you?"

"I think I can let it slide," he chuckles, "Besides, where would I send you? Do you even know where you come from?"

"Yes. Don't you?"

"No. Not really. I only know what Megamind told me and he doesn't remember much. He was only a baby when he left and what he does know is more about his planet than mine."

How could he not know where he came from? The information should have been in his pod. "Neither of you has a data recording that explains things?" she asks incredulously.

"No. Should we have?"

"Of course!" A gust blows her hair out of her face and she pushes away from him in frustration. "What sort of irresponsible people would send a child across 100 light years of space and not leave a note to tell him what happened?" She drifts back and forth in the air, a movement that would probably be called pacing if she'd been doing it on her feet on the ground. "It probably got lost. What happened to your pod?"

"Mother let me play with it until I was too big to fit and then she threw it out."

She pauses, a look of disbelief on her face. "Your mother left a space pod capable of jumping interstellar distances out on the curb on trash day?"

"Yeah," he answers sheepishly. He knows his mother is not terribly bright, but hadn't really considered just how much she may have cost him when she'd thrown out his pod.

She throws up her hands in disgust, the wind simultaneously whipping her hair into the air. "Unbelievable. What about Megamind's pod?" she asks. Surely, as intelligent as the viln man was supposed to be, he would have known better than to dispose of his pod before he'd puzzled out all its secrets.

"He said the government took it."

Well, there goes her hopes of learning more about the death of the Tet'lijor system from those two. Tempest! On the other hand… She was in the unique position of holding all the cards. She was the only one with any significant information about their origins. She wonders how she can use that to her advantage. "Well, I don't have my pod anymore either. The ASCA researchers have it at a facility with people who specialize in alien technology. But they gave me my memory sphere because it was keyed to my genetic signature. If they wanted to find out what was in it, they needed me to tell them."

"You're lucky," he told her, "I'd love to know where I came from."

"You came from Glaupir, the fifth planet in the Tet'lijor star system," she tells him matter-of-factly. "It was approximately 109 light years from here. It's still visible from Earth, but I'm afraid I can't tell you which one it is. Stargazing isn't really one of my hobbies." She winks at him.

"And how exactly do you know that?" he asks warily. He still detects nothing but honesty from her, but supers were harder to read. Perhaps she wasn't telling the truth after all.

"Because I'm from Korbalst, the fourth planet of the same system."

"That seems remarkably coincidental," he tells her suspiciously. He's willing to believe that she's an extraterrestrial. Though extremely rare, he knows he and Megamind are not the only ones on the planet. But the idea that she is from _his_ star system stretches his credulity. More likely she learned something of his origins and made up the rest. He thinks she's trying to con him somehow, "Why should I believe you? For all I know you're as human as any of the citizens in the streets below us."

If her white eyes had been capable of rolling, she'd have rolled them. "Then X-ray me," she tells him, "You should be able to tell I'm not human. My heart's on the wrong side. My skull isn't quite the right shape, though it doesn't really show under my hair. I have an extra vertebra in my neck. My sinus cavities are arranged differently. My inner ear isn't the same. I don't even have a vestigial tailbone, as my ancestors were not tree-climbing proto-monkeys." She floats in front of him with her arms extended to her sides, out of his way. "Go ahead. Check." She challenges him.

He hesitates briefly before focuses his vision under her skin. He confirms the anatomical anomalies she listed, as well as noting a few others, but he still isn't convinced. "That doesn't prove anything. You could just be a human mutant. The planet has plenty of those."

"Well, short of a DNA test, I can't really _prove_ that I'm not human." She pauses for a moment, thinking. How much would a viln infant possibly know about his planet, much less the other planets in his star system? At that age, would he even know that his planet was round and orbited its star? They were supposed to be self-aware almost from birth and retain memories of even their earliest days. But would he have remembered anything useful? "You said that Megamind told you some things about your star system?"

"Yes, but he didn't say anything about another inhabited planet."

"Did he say there _wasn't_ another inhabited planet?"

"No," he answers cautiously.

This relieves her. "Okay, then. Here's some of what I know. Our system had 4 planets with complex life, three with sentient life. You're a glaupunk, I'm a balsti, and Megamind is a viln. His was the third planet, Vilnsit. I already told you that you were from the fifth planet and mine was the fourth. The second planet also had life, but mostly giant insectoids. Nothing intelligent. It was called Negas'li. Our entire system was sucked into a black hole that formed when our sun collapsed. Does that fit with what Megamind told you?"

Megamind had never mentioned half of what she'd just said, but that might be because it wasn't a subject they'd ever discussed in much detail. They'd only recently gotten to a point where their conversations didn't invariably degenerate into cliché banter, and the subject had only barely come up. He didn't think she'd actually contradicted anything the former villain had ever told him about their home, however. "I don't… I'm not sure. Hang on." Metro Man retrieves a thin flip phone from somewhere on his skin-tight costume and selects Roxanne from his contact list. He hopes his friend is out watching the fireworks somewhere, or else the call will go straight to voice mail. He knows her cell phone does not work inside Megamind's lair and his rival has yet to give him a direct contact number. Voice mail picks up on the 5th ring. He sighs and leaves a message.

"He wasn't available?" she asks.

"No. I probably won't hear back from either of them until tomorrow. If they're already in for the night, I wouldn't want to interrupt them anyway." They're still newlyweds, after all. He tries not to think too deeply about that. He still feels jealous and confused by his rival's unexpected luck in winning Roxanne.

Lady Doppler decides to cut her losses for the night, "Well, I'd rather not spend the evening with a man who thinks I'm trying to scam him—"

"—I don't think that," he objects.

"Now who's the liar?" she asks pointedly. He doesn't deny the accusation. "How about if I tell you more about back home some other time?" suggests Lady Doppler diplomatically, "Once you've had a chance to verify that I'm not a con-artist." She breezes up to him and brushes his cheek with a brief kiss. "I'll see you later, Big Guy," she tells him and flies off without waiting for his response.

He lifts his hand to his cheek as he watches her speed away on the wind. "Good night, Lady," he whispers into the night. Metro Man reluctantly returns his attention to the protection of the city below. He hopes she's telling him the truth.

**Okay, this is a superhero universe. This means that the inhabitants have an appalling inability to recognize a person in disguise. To use D&D terms, they'd have to roll a natural 20 (probably twice) to pass their spot checks. So, yeah, a spandex supersuit is all that's required to disguise most supers so that no one has any idea who they are in real life. I mean, come on. A wig and apron was enough to disguise a space fish in a robot gorilla suit. **

**The next chapter will have Megamind and Roxanne. **

**There's just something about a woman who flies…**

**Review. It makes me keep going. **


	41. Toymaker

**Let's backtrack just a bit. Let's go see what's been going on with our favorite couple. Just a short one today. **

Roxanne's return to work as Roxanne Ritchi-Megamind had gone surprisingly well due in no small part to the station's marketing department who took shameless advantage of the situation. The station could have let the public paint her as a fallen woman. By many people's estimation, she'd gone from dating a near-god to slinking off to marry a sub-human criminal. Despite the scandal, the station was obligated to keep her on-staff, at least until her contract comes up for renewal at the end of the year. Marrying the city's supervillain does not violate the terms of her employment.

Instead of sulking and assigning her to stories nobody else wanted and otherwise making her job unpleasant, the station decided to turn a liability into an asset. They gave the problem to the marketing department. Thanks to them, she is now mostly seen as the woman who'd single-handedly tamed Megamind and turned him from a menace to society into someone who might, potentially, become one of the nation's greatest scientific resources. They are even using a still shot of her wearing one of Megamind's capes in some of their promotions, much to Megamind's amusement.

Among other accomplishments, the marketers had managed to turn her menacing cyborg bodyguards into unofficial mascots of the station. The art department had even created a new logo for the station where the number 8 had two stylized brainbots circling around it. The station is currently running a contest to name the brainbots, who are still only known by their numbers. Megamind insisted on having veto power to prevent them being named something he deems inappropriate, but otherwise the people of Metro City are having a grand time inventing names for the cyborgs.

After seeing how popular 86 and 112 had become, Roxanne mentioned that if he could make toy brainbots that could hover around and obey very simple commands, he could probably make a small fortune in the toy market. The opportunity to make some honest money for a change appealed to Megamind and he began working on designs and mapping out a marketing strategy. Of course, the toys would not be _real_ brainbots. The creatures are alive, and it would be wrong to sell them to people who might not treat them well. Besides, real brainbots are far too intelligent and temperamental to be safe to sell to civilians. They even bite Megamind on occasion, and he's their Daddy. Oddly they never bite Roxanne, which Megamind can never figure out. She always teases him that it's because they love her more.

Instead of using real brainbot cybernetics, Megamind plans to use standard circuitry for the toys and is working on modifying the software from his Rock 'em Sock 'em Kittens scheme last year so that it will work in the new toy brainbot bodies. Those cute-but-deadly little kittenbots had outsold every other toy in the city last Christmas. If they hadn't turned out to be a complicated scheme to tarnish Metro Man's reputation while simultaneously funding more of Megamind's evil schemes, they'd still be the hot toy again this year. The old kittenbot code will work perfectly once he adapts it for use in toys that can fly. He just has to make sure he completely removes the 'Kill' command from the programming.

Megamind is sketching out designs for his toy brainbots with a pencil in each hand. He often writes with two hands simultaneously, claiming that his mind works too fast for one hand to keep up. Roxanne thinks it's one of the weirder things he does, and she's married to him. She's caught him doing all sorts of strange things.

She moves up behind him and wraps her arms around his chest. He smiles and stops writing, leaning back against her. "What do you think?" he asks.

She rests her chin on his shoulder, studying his drawings. "Maybe fewer sharp edges. These things are supposed to be for kids."

"Without the spikes, they don't look like brainbots. Don't worry, they'll be blunted. I wouldn't make _dangerous_ toys for children," he assures her. Remembering his kittenbots, he amends, "Well, not again, anyway."

She laughs, "How about one that looks a little less vicious. You know, for girls?"

"Girls like spikes."

"Not most girls."

"How about if I paint this one pink?" he compromises.

**For those who know my stories, I'm referencing my Rock'em Sock'em Kittens story, which is, of course, based on something said in the Button of Doom. The only change is the timescale. In this AU, the kittenbot scheme happened the previous Christmas season. Which would be Christmas of 2008, I believe. **

**Review please. It makes me feel loved and keeps me writing. :)**


	42. Mother In Law

**Bet you all thought this had been abandoned, didn't you? Nope. Still working on it, just very slowly. This chapter was hard to write. I kept wanting to drift back to Lady Doppler. I haven't started the next chapter, but the two after it are half-written already because they have to do with Lady D. I just have to get the next one out of the way. Sorry it's been so slow, but I've been working on other things, like art and real-life non-Megamind things. So, this story will continue (as will idwbat) but just very slowly. Sorry, but real life takes priority. **

**So, we're still back-tracking a bit with this chapter. It's a couple weeks after the wedding, but still before Independence Day. **

Sandra Ritchi sits in the passenger seat of her daughter's car. She'd never seen it so clean. Although Roxanne is not exactly a slob, she doesn't expend much effort on the state of her car. It generally has an abandoned cardboard cup in the cupholder, a few wadded up receipts in the floorboards, sand and dirt in the carpet, and maybe some crumpled fast food wrappers in the little trash can wedged behind the center console. Today the car looks like something straight off a used car dealer's lot. There's no trash anywhere, the carpet and seats have been vacuumed, and dashboard has been wiped clean of dust. It's spotless. There's even an air freshener in the shape of a blue lightning bolt hanging from her mirror. "You got your car detailed?" she asks.

"Sort of," Roxanne answers, "The brainbots keep it clean for me when they don't have anything else to do."

Sandra glances into the backseat where Roxanne's two bodyguard brainbots crouch, vigilantly watching their surroundings through the windows. They periodically turn their glowing red eyes toward the older woman. She doesn't like the way they look at her, as if they suspect her of being a threat. Roxanne has already assured her mother several times that the brainbots are trustworthy, but she couldn't honestly tell her that they're harmless. Their job is to keep Roxanne safe, which means they can kill if they need to. Who knows what sort of moral code governs their behavior? Sandra wonders what happens if the brainbots get confused or spooked. She shudders and turns her attention back to the road in front of them. "So, we're invisible now?" she asks.

Roxanne smiles, "Yes, Mom. We're invisible. Now hush, I need to concentrate." Her hands tighten on the steering wheel, the knuckles white. She glances into the rearview mirror again, making sure there are no cars heading towards them.

Sandra cranes her neck upwards, trying to see the hood through the windshield. She can't see it. She should be able to, even on a cab-forward car, but she can't. She glances to the side and realizes she also can't see the side mirrors. That's definitely not a trick of perspective. Though it doesn't seem like it from the inside, they _are_ invisible. "Is it even _legal_ to drive an invisible car?" she asks, despite her daughter's request for silence.

"Mom, I married _Megamind_. Do you really _want_ an answer to that question?"

Sandra frowns and decides that, no, she probably doesn't. She wonders how Roxanne keeps the other cars from running into her if they can't see her. Is there some sort of computer-guided accident avoidance system? Or is she literally dodging traffic? "Is it safe?" her mother asks nervously.

Roxanne sighs in exasperation, "Not really," she admits, "That's why I need you to _not_ distract me while I'm driving."

"Sorry," Sandra answers, contritely. She double-checks her seatbelt and turns her attention to the road, lending her eyes to the task of keeping them out of the path of the other traffic.

The ride is uneventful. They roll cautiously through intersections, cruise past a squad car parked in front of a donut shop, and swerve around other cars without giving any indication that they are there at all. Soon they approach an empty industrial area and pull into a cracked and weed-choked parking lot. Instead of stopping in a parking space, Roxanne drives straight at the brick building. Despite being warned about the hologram disguising the entrance, Sandra gasps and throws her arms up over her head as they pass through the wall.

When she looks up, the car is rolling through a huge room with 30-foot ceilings. Roxanne turns into an empty space between another car customized with odd jagged metal fins and something that looks a little like a motorcycle without wheels.

"We're here," Roxanne announces unnecessarily. She opens the door and steps out. The brainbots follow her and Sandra is relieved to find herself alone in the car for a moment. It feels safe compared to the room outside. She takes a deep breath, gathering her courage. _You wanted to come see where they were living_, she reminds herself, _No sense avoiding it now_. She opens the door and steps out of the car.

She jumps when she looks around her. They are surrounded by a circle of floating brainbots. There must be thirty or forty of them. All with their creepy red eyes turned toward her. The two bots that belong to Roxanne are emitting staticy growling noises and snapping at their brothers, keeping them back. Sandra scurries over to her daughter, half hiding behind her and clutching nervously at her arm. Surely she'll be safe if she sticks with Roxanne. They ought to know better than to attack Megamind's wife, right? Why are they all staring at her? Roxanne seems unconcerned. In fact, she seems annoyed. She puts her hands on her hips and scolds them, "Boys, is this the way you behave around guests?"

The bots whine and their eyestalks droop. They float lower in the air and seem to hide behind each other. Sandra is reminded, incongruously, of a pack of dogs being scolded by their master. She loosens her grip on her daughter's arm and recovers her dignity, embarrassed to have let the bots frighten her.

"Don't you all have other things you're supposed to be doing?" Roxanne asks the bots, "If you don't, I can certainly _find_ you something to do." Something in her tone of voice indicates that any task _she_ chooses for the bots will _not_ be one they'll enjoy. Sandra wonders what chore would be so onerous that a robot wouldn't want to do it. The bots wander off, presumably returning to whatever they were doing before the women arrived. 112 and 86 give final bowgs toward their retreating brothers before deliberately turning their backs on them and returning to Roxanne. Sandra steps back to give the bots plenty of room as Roxanne strokes their domes comfortingly. Then they resume their accustomed guard positions behind her daughter.

Sandra eyes the bots warily for a moment before deciding that they're not likely to lunge at her if she turns her back on them. Turning away, she takes a good look around the cavernous room. The walls are lined with strange vehicles, robots, and unidentifiable equipment, most of it black and covered in spikes. A strange, spider-like robot with far too many glowing red eyes skitters up the wall and into the rafters, watching her. She tries to ignore it. Several rows of warehouse shelves store crates, boxes, rolls, and barrels. All sorts of materials and parts for god-knows what. Several tall tool chests are pushed against the wall near an arc welder and a half dozen extension cords crisscross the floor. Everything appears neatly organized. She imagines the brainbots must keep everything squared away. Her late husband would have loved this place, she knows. It's a grease monkey's paradise, complete with someone else to put away the tools and clean up the messes.

Roxanne had spent a lot of time out in the garage with her father growing up. It influenced the type of man she was attracted to. A few years after college, Roxanne was engaged to a biker who built custom motorcycles, just like her father had. If she'd married him, she'd probably have a decent house in the suburbs now. A couple kids, a dog. They'd probably take off work to ride to Sturgis every summer. It would have been a nice, normal life with just enough excitement to keep things interesting without crossing the law.

But Roxanne had dreamed of being a TV news reporter since she was thirteen. When she finally landed a job at channel 8, Michael had refused to relocate. All his customers were around Ann Arbor and he didn't want to have to start over in a new city. He made her choose between him and her career. He was as surprised as everyone else when she moved to Metro City without him.

Sandra always suspected that she grew to regret that decision, but Roxanne was too stubborn to ever admit it. Instead Roxanne immersed herself in her work; using her career to help get her past the pain of her breakup. Her job became the center of her life and she insisted that she didn't need a man. But Sandra knew Roxanne was lonely and she encouraged her daughter to start dating again. Eventually she did, but when she told her mother about it, she'd constantly compare the men to Michael, as if he were the gold standard all men had to live up to. It took a long time before she stopped doing that. By the time she was really ready to date again, she'd caught the attention of the city's super rivals and the rumor mill insisted that she belonged to Metro Man, which wouldn't have been so bad if it were true. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and Roxanne complained frequently to her mother about how every man in the city was too afraid of Metro Man to even consider taking her out.

Well, every man but one.

So she'd married the fugitive supervillain, lives in a converted warehouse, and is secretly pregnant with what is probably the first human/alien hybrid ever conceived. Much as she wants grandchildren, Sandra thinks her daughter was better off single. This life seems so far from the one that Sandra had wished for her that she has a hard time believing it's what her daughter really wants.

The spiderbot hanging from the rafters swipes at a passing brainbot, but misses. _Does that thing eat other robots?_ she wonders, shuddering at the thought of a cannibalistic robot. She squares her shoulders and straightens her spine. If Roxanne isn't bothered by living in a mad scientist's workshop, then she certainly isn't going to let it get to her either. Irritated at her own anxiety, she takes back some measure of control over the situation by challenging her daughter. "So, this is where you plan to raise my grandchild?" she asks, sniffing in disapproval, "You can't tell me this is a safe environment for a toddler."

"Mom, we still have months to baby-proof things." That's true. She won't even start showing for _at least_ another two or three months. "And the baby won't be crawling out here unsupervised."

"You can't watch the child every moment," her mother argues. As a toddler, it seemed like every time Sandra had turned her back, Roxanne would be off getting into something she shouldn't. She hates to think what sort of dangerous things her grandchild might encounter in a place like this.

"The lair is full of cyborgs and AIs. They'll let us know if the baby sneaks out here and they're more than capable of pulling it away from anything dangerous."

"You'd trust these… things around your baby?" For God's sake! They have bear-trap jaws and can shoot lasers out of their eyestalks. And then there's that _thing_ in the rafters. They are hardly trustworthy babysitters.

She sighs, "Mom, you promised you'd keep an open mind."

"Right. Fine," Sandra concedes, trying hard to rein in her disapproval. She decides a change in subject is called for and asks, "So where is this husband of yours, anyway?"

Megamind is obviously not in the workshop. "Three seventy-two," Roxanne calls, picking one brainbot seemingly at random out of the few that are working nearby. Sandra thinks the indicated brainbot looks surprised to be picked and wonders how she keeps all the numbers straight. It neatly stows the tool it was cleaning and moves to hover in front of her, bobbing and squirming as it awaits its orders. It looks excited. Sandra isn't sure why Roxanne picked that one out of all the others. It's a seemingly ordinary bot, with a 3-spiked crest, one tendril, and canine-like fangs welded onto its jaw. Roxanne is unfazed by its aggressive appearance and asks it calmly, "Where's Daddy?"

The bot blinks its red eye twice, and promptly flies across to the far end of the lair. It ducks behind the edge of a large red curtain hanging across the end of the room. A moment later the bot reemerges, waiting for them. Roxanne walks towards it, her mother trailing behind.

"Daddy?" Roxanne's mother asks. Did Roxanne actually call her husband Daddy?

She shrugs in response. "_He_ programmed them that way, not me. If you ask them 'Where's Megamind?' they'll only get confused."

"What do they call you?"

She winces in embarrassment. "Mommy," she admits and then hurries to explain, "It's really no worse than those people who call themselves their dog's Mommy or Daddy," she insists, "Besides, he sort of is their Daddy. He created them. Or, at least, he created the first few of each model. They're self-replicating."

Sandra looks back at the dozens of brainbots working on various tasks throughout the lair. _Those things can reproduce?_ she thinks nervously. "How many of them are there?" she asks. _Are they going to overrun the city like packs of feral dogs? _

"Thousands," Roxanne answers. They pass a doorway and she points into the room beyond where rack upon rack of dormant brainbots are stored. "Most of them are asleep, like those. But they're there if he needs them."

She gapes at the crowded room lit only by the red indicator lights under each bot. "What does he need so many for?" she asks, shocked by the sheer number of the creatures. What if they get loose? Go on a rampage? She can't even tell how many are in there. Are there really thousands?

Roxanne smiles, "What's a supervillain without a robot horde?"

Sandra had hoped that coming to visit the evil lair would assure her that Megamind really wasn't all that bad after all, as her daughter keeps insisting. That deep down he was a normal person. That perspective is increasingly hard to hold onto the more she sees of his machines and creatures (or machines that are creatures). She wonders if this visit was a bad idea after all. What was she thinking coming here? How can Roxanne possibly find any redeeming qualities in a man who keeps a robot army stored in his backroom?

"Relax, Mom. He doesn't need them anymore. That's why they're in storage. He's not planning to take over the city anymore." Is that supposed to be reassuring?

She reluctantly takes her daughter's word for it, but isn't really convinced. Why keep so many robots if you had no plans to use them? It doesn't make any sense.

They reach the edge of the curtain and Roxanne walks around it followed by her floating bodyguards. Not wanting to be left behind in the dim room with so many glowing eyes watching her, Sandra hurries after her daughter.

Sandra is struck by the dramatic change from one room to another. The workroom had been dim and echoing. It had a mysterious, dangerous feel to it. As if anything could be lurking in the darkened corners, watching her. And probably was. The next room, however, is bright and warm. Sunlight is streaming in through the dirty windows and there are lights, both hanging from the ceiling and sitting on tables. Brightly colored papers flutter from strings on the ceiling and are pinned haphazardly to corkboards. Complicated equations crowd a chalk board and several maps and satellite photographs are taped to the walls. A dartboard has a well-pierced picture of Metro Man pinned to its center.

A conventional desk sits off to one side with a laptop sitting in its center and papers stacked around it. A coffee mug with an image of a cartoon flying saucer and the words _Abducted by Aliens_ contains a collection of pens and pencils. Roxanne's desk is just as messy here as it always was at her apartment. It seems right at home among the cheerful chaos.

At the far end of the room, Megamind sits perched on a stool in front of a drafting table. His back is to his mother-in-law and he seems oblivious to either woman's presence. His pencil scratches across a piece of grid paper. Roxanne, smiling, is already walking across the room toward him. Sandra hangs back and watches her daughter and new son-in-law.

Roxanne doesn't sneak up on her husband, but he is so absorbed in his work that he doesn't notice her until she wraps her arms around him from behind. He immediately swivels his stool to face her, absent-mindedly dropping his pencil, which rolls off the slanted table and clatters onto the floor. A brainbot swoops in and retrieves it, depositing it in a nearby pencil cup. Megamind doesn't seem to notice. All his attention is on his wife. He's grinning broadly at her. It's a strange expression to see on his alien blue face. For a moment, he looks completely human. The illusion is enhanced by the normal clothing he's wearing. Instead of a leather supervillain suit, he's wearing jeans and a long-sleeved v-neck shirt. The clothes are black and his boots might just be the same baby-seal ones he always wears, but he doesn't look like a villain. Villains never look so genuinely and simply happy.

"You're back," he observes. It's Friday afternoon and Sandra knows that Roxanne's been at work all day. Megamind probably hasn't seen her since that morning. He greets her like any new husband would greet his wife after a day apart. He stands and hugs her, brushing a kiss across her cheek as his arms slip naturally around her back. He closes his eyes as they embrace. Sandra feels as if she's intruding on something private. After a long moment, the blue man breathes in deeply, his nose nestled in the crook where Roxanne's neck meets her shoulder. He opens his eyes and glances around the room, immediately spotting Sandra. His smile turns brittle as he meets her eyes. Sandra hadn't realized quite how intensely green the alien's eyes really were. They're almost neon. She feels her shoulders stiffening under his piercing gaze.

He steps away from his wife slightly, his left arm settling around Roxanne's waist. He holds her possessively close, challenging Sandra to object. Hip-to-hip, they approach the older woman. Roxanne turns strangely shy, glancing between Megamind and her mother. Watching.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, Mrs. Ritchi." Megamind holds out his hand for Sandra to shake. She eyes his bare blue skin for a brief second, not wanting to touch it. He notes her hesitation and the direction of her gaze. He's seen it before. "Don't worry. The blue doesn't rub off," he tells her.

Sandra has the decency to be appalled at her own behavior and embarrassed that he'd called her on it.

She doesn't consider herself a racist. She really doesn't believe that whites are inherently any better or more deserving than any other group because they're white and she doesn't approve of people who do. But _this_ situation requires an entirely different level of tolerance, one she's not quite sure she's ready for. If Roxanne had married a black man, she wouldn't hesitate to accept her choice. But Megamind isn't just a different race. He's a different species!

She glances at her daughter, who seems to be waiting to see what she'll do. The decision isn't in Sandra's hands. This is Roxanne's choice and she's already made it. All Sandra has control over is whether or not she's going to alienate her only child because of it. It's not really a hard decision. She forces a smile onto her face and grasps his hand, making sure not to flinch, and pumps it briefly as she would with anyone else, perhaps a bit too firmly in her effort not to show her discomfort. "No, of course not. I'm sorry… I didn't mean to be rude. I've never met a…" she lowers her voice to whisper nervously, "…a _space alien_ before."

"You've met Wayne," Roxanne reminds her, refusing to let her mother off the hook.

That's true. She's quite used to Wayne Scott and has even had him over to the house on several occasions, to the envy of many of her neighbors. She doesn't really think of him as an alien, though. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she agrees, "But he doesn't exactly _look_ like an alien, now does he?"

Megamind raises an eyebrow eloquently, but doesn't say anything. Sandra feels like she's put her foot in her mouth again. Twice in one minute, that must be some sort of record.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Mom," Roxanne rebukes her, "Megamind's not really _that_ different. Otherwise I wouldn't be pregnant." Roxanne glances at her husband who meets her eyes with a distinct leer. Again, Sandra feels like she's interrupting something private. Newlyweds! They're probably thinking about exactly how Roxanne ended up in her condition.

"I'm sorry. You're right, I guess. It's just—Good Lord, this is awkward," she admits. She's trying to make nice to the alien convict who got her daughter pregnant and then eloped with her. Awkward doesn't cover it. She bets Miss Manners never had to deal with this situation.

Roxanne takes pity on her mother and suggests a distraction, "Let's go see if Minion's finished making dinner yet." Without waiting for her response, she turns and walks across the room to a doorway on the far side, Megamind in tow. Sandra follows.

The non-descript door opens into a small apartment with a kitchen, living room, and a hallway heading off to the left leading, presumably, to the bed and bath rooms. The only oddity, besides the robot gorilla crouching in front of the oven door, is its normalcy. It's not what she'd expected.

The robot gorilla pulls a casserole dish from the oven and places it on the counter. In place of a head, the robot has a water-filled glass dome containing a pirannah-like fish. She knows without introduction that this is Minion. There's something surreal about the whole situation, and the flowered _Kiss the Cook_ apron he's wearing isn't helping.

The fish notices that he's not alone. He grins toothily at his family and their guest. "Just about ready," he tells them. Then, addressing Sandra, "Welcome to the evil lair, Mrs. Ritchi. I'm Minion. I hope you like fish. I made roasted tilapia with summer squash and lemon herb butter."

"It smells, wonderful!" Roxanne praises the spacefish before her mother can respond. She joins the creature behind the counter and opens cabinets and drawers until she has a neat stack of plates, flatware, and glasses. She carries it all into the living room and begins setting them out on the glass coffee table, settling on the couch once she's done. Sandra notices the kitchen counter has two stools pulled up to one side, but there clearly isn't room for three. Without a proper kitchen table, it looks like they're planning to eat on the coffee table in the living room.

"Do you need help with anything," Sandra asks, both because it's the polite thing to ask and so she has something to occupy herself with.

"Oh, no, Mrs. Ritchi. You're our guest. Just go sit in the living room while we get everything set up," Minion instructs her, "Sir, if you could get the drinks?" Minion picks up the hot casserole dish in his bare metal hands and takes it to the table, leaving his boss to search through the refrigerator for appropriate beverages.

"What would you like, Mrs. Ritchi?" Megamind asks, "We have tea, milk, Diet Coke, orange juice, or... eww... Minion, why do we have brainbot nutrient bath in here? Brainbots!" he calls into his wristwatch without giving Minion a chance to answer, "Someone get in here and move your glucose solution into the lab refrigerator. Honestly, 37 active brainbots in the lair and they still can't manage to put their food away in the right place." Megamind removes a tall glass beaker filled with a clear yellow fluid from the refrigerator and sets it on the counter.

"That's my fault, sir. I needed to mix up another batch, but I didn't want to risk burning the fish if I left the kitchen to do it. I was going to move it later."

"Oh, fine, fine. It doesn't matter, Minion. Well, what do you want, Mrs. Ritchi?"

Sandra had nearly forgotten that he'd been asking her about drinks a moment before and tries to remember her choices. "Oh, tea would be fine," she tells him. She's still standing just inside the doorway. A brainbot brushes past her, retrieves the beaker from the counter, and then flies back out of the room. No one else seems to notice it.

"No. Mom, you really don't want that," Roxanne warns, "That's Megamind's tea. He puts so much sugar in it that it's almost syrup."

"What's wrong with that?" he asks, pouting slightly.

Roxanne rolls her eyes but doesn't answer.

"Oh, I guess I'll have the... Diet Coke?" Sandra decides uncertainly.

"Good choice," Roxanne approves.

"And you get milk," Megamind proclaims without consulting his wife on her preference. Roxanne wrinkles her nose. "You've been drinking ca-fee-in-ated sodas all day at work and you need the calcium," he insists. Sandra likes that he's looking after her daughter's health.

"Caffeinated," she corrects him, "And how do you know that I've been drinking sodas all day?"

"Lucky guess," he answers as he sets the jug, pitcher, and soda can on the table. He plants a kiss on the top of his wife's head before sitting next to her on the couch. As he settles into his place, the flurry of activity that had seemed to fill the room as the meal had been set out stills and the three residents look expectantly over at Sandra who is standing by the doorway.

Sandra, still clutching her hand bag under her arm, walks across the room and slides into the empty armchair at the end of the table. She sets her purse on the floor next to the chair. A brainbot she hadn't noticed floats over, takes her bag, and flies off with it. She hopes she'll get it back in one piece. Once seated, Roxanne and Megamind serve themselves and Sandra follows their lead.

Megamind takes a bite and grins at Minion who is standing on the side of the room away from the table, "Terrific, as usual you perfect Pisces."

"Thank you, sir," the fish answers, looking embarrassed at the praise.

"Aren't you going to say grace?" Sandra asks. She really isn't surprised that a man raised by criminals in a penitentiary wouldn't give thanks before eating. Still, it's a custom she'd insisted on when Roxanne was growing up and she is annoyed that her daughter is ignoring it. Not that she always observes it herself, but that isn't the point.

"Grace?" Megamind asks uncertainly.

"Mom, I haven't done that for years. And Megamind isn't exactly Christian."

Sandra wonders what he _is_. What do space aliens believe in? Probably not Jesus Christ. She isn't ignorant enough to believe what some people say: that he worships the devil. Roxanne would never be with him if he did. It's probably too much to hope for that he's on the _right_ spiritual path, though. She considers making an issue of it. She's an evangelical. She's _supposed_ to proselytize. Every soul saved is one less for the devil and Megamind's soul (if he has one) is surely one Satan had already counted as his. It won't be easy to convert him. She'll probably have to enlist Roxanne's help. _Best not to push it too quickly_, she decides. _One step at a time._ "It can never hurt to take a moment to give thanks," Sandra insists reasonably.

Roxanne sighs. She sets her fork down, folds her hands together, and closes her eyes. Watching his wife, the blue alien mirrors her, though Sandra notices he doesn't completely close his eyes. She smiles at the small victory and she folds her own hands. She recites the short prayer, "Dear Lord, thank you for this food. Bless the hands that prepared it. Bless it to our use and us to your service and make us ever mindful of the needs of others. Through Christ our Lord we pray. Amen."

"Amen," her daughter echoes along with, to Sandra's surprise, Minion. She hadn't noticed the fish bow his head, but apparently he had. When Megamind doesn't say anything, Roxanne nudges him with her elbow.

"Oh, ah, amen," he says, "Is that it? Can we eat now?"

"Yes, we can eat," his wife confirms.

He looks relieved and digs into his food. Sandra and Roxanne follow suite. The food really is quite good. As good or better than any meal she could get in an expensive restaurant. "Good heavens, how does a fish cook like this? Minion, this is amazing."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ritchi. Just doing my job," Minion answers, "It's really not all that difficult. The boss and I do more difficult chemistry in the lab all the time."

"She's right, Minion," Roxanne tells the fish, "You have a gift." She turns to her mother and asks, "Do you know he makes nearly every meal for us, does all the chores, and still finds time to help Megamind out in the workshop? I don't know how he does it."

"Lots of brainbots," answers Minion, "I do cooking and most of the laundry myself, but the other chores usually get done by brainbot. I just have to supervise them. When's the last time you saw me scrubbing the toilet? That's what brainbots are made for."

"Oh, shatter my illusions," Roxanne complains amiably. "I thought you had some sort of super minion-fish powers to keep an evil lair in perfect order," she teases.

"With Sir living here? You know what he's like. I _need_ a robot horde to clean up after him."

"I'm not that bad," Megamind objects.

"Sir, when's the last time you made your own bed? Or put your laundry in the hamper? Or wiped down the counter?" the fish asks, "Last week you threw an entire box of doughnuts all over the floor just to illustrate a point."

"Oh, you're such a pill Minion. I have far more important things to worry about than housekeeping. Besides, that's what the brainbots are for."

"Exactly my point, sir."

While the aliens bicker good-naturedly, Sandra notices something she hadn't before. "This table has no legs," she observes. She waves her hands underneath it as far as she can reach without getting out of her chair. The glass tabletop floats immobile in mid-air, laden with food and dishes, with no visible means of support. "What's holding it up?"

"It's an electrostatic levitation device. One in each corner." He gestured toward a dark, flat disk embedded in the glass on each corner of the rectangular glass tabletop. "It took me a month to get it calibrated right. I kept coming out here to find that the far end had drifted a centimeter lower than this end. Turned out to be a bad capacitor in this corner," answers Megamind, pleased to have a chance to show off his work.

Sandra pushes sideways at the table and then downward, but it won't budge. "How's it stay in one place?"

"There's an anchor point on the floor under the rug," he answers.

"Wouldn't it have been simpler to just make a regular table with legs?" Sandra asks.

"Where would the fun be in that?" he counters with a rakish grin.

There's something familiar about this exchange. She'd had this conversation before years ago, only over a custom-built bicycle for Roxanne. _"Why don't you just buy her a bike, Richard? It would be faster, easier, and cheaper." "Sure," he'd agreed while measuring out lengths of pipe to use for the frame, "but that wouldn't be any fun."_ Sandra regards the blue man in silence for a moment, surprised at what she'd just recognized in him. Finally she turns toward Roxanne. "Okay, I believe you," she tells her daughter, "He _is_ just like your father."

That was the turning point of the evening. The three finish their meal and brainbots clear everything away. Minion joins them around the mysteriously floating table, kneeling his robotic body to put his head on the same level as everyone else. The four pass the time looking through a photo album of Roxanne's and a scrapbook of Minion's. Sandra laughs at the stories that go along with the pictures and newspaper clippings, often to Megamind's mortification. "It was not a unicorn!" Later they play five hundred and discuss renovations to the lair and other plans for the future. Megamind and Roxanne win the card game, but it's close. Despite Megamind's card-counting ability, he proves completely incapable of bluffing, which evens the playing field considerably. Eventually Sandra yawns and announces that it's time she went home. Minion volunteers to take her back in the Hudson.

"I'm glad I finally came over to meet you, Megamind," Sandra tells her son-in-law.

"Likewise, Mrs. Ritchi."

"Call me Sandra," she tells him, "After all, we're family now."

A smile slides across the blue man's face at the idea. "Good night, Sandra," he tells her.

"Good night, Megamind," she answers, and then surprises him by giving him a hug. She does the same to Roxanne as they exchange farewells. "Take care," she tells them both before stepping into the waiting invisible car. She and Minion drive away, leaving Roxanne and Megamind in what passes for privacy in a lair filled with cyborgs and AIs.

"Will he take good care of her?" she asks the fish as they drive invisibly through the dark streets.

"As far a Sir's concerned, she's the most precious thing on the entire planet," Minion answers honestly.

"All new husbands feel that way at first. But he was a villain. Will he keep his vows?"

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Ritchi. It's in his nature. Viln don't leave their mates. Not ever."

Sandra stares at the fish. That statement is both reassuring and terribly disturbing all at once. "What happens if _she_ changes _her_ mind?"

"Let's hope she doesn't," the fish answers seriously.

**So, review and let me know people are still reading. It makes me happy and keeps me writing. **


	43. Blue Paint

June 20, 2009

"Hello, Metro City!" Roxanne smiles warmly at the camera as she stands in an outdoor parking lot surrounded by portable pens filled with excited dogs and cats. "Today I'm here live at the Fourth Street Animal Shelter where volunteers are hoping you will come out and adopt one of their wonderful animals that need a loving home. I'm here with Amy Fitzpatrick, the shelter's director." She turns to a thin, red-haired woman who's wearing a T-shirt with a picture of a LOL cat printed on it. A medium-sized brown dog of indeterminate breed is jumping excitedly at the woman's knees while she holds it on a short leash, trying to control its excitement, "Ms. Fitzpatrick, what would you like to tell our audience about the animals you have available for adoption today?"

"Well, as I said earlier, all our animals are available for immediate adoption. All you need to do is come down and fill out some paperwork. You can take your new pet home today." The shelter director signals to the excited dog with a closed fist and the dog obediently sits.

"How much does it cost to adopt a pet from the shelter?" Roxanne asks, following her pre-arranged script.

The dog looks at its handler expectantly. She unzips a pocket in her fanny-pack and takes out a treat for the animal, which gulps it down and immediately forgets that it's supposed to be sitting. "There's a $100 fee per animal. That covers the medical costs of their shots and having them spayed or neutered. Other than that they're free to good homes all around the city." The dog rubs its nose into the woman's fanny pack, hoping to knock out some more treats. Unfortunately this makes it appear to bury its nose into the woman's crotch. She pushes it away distractedly, trying to keep her attention on the reporter. She is beginning to regret choosing this animal to appear during the interview.

"What types of animals do you have?" Roxanne continues, ignoring the dog.

"Most of our animals are dogs or cats, but we do have a few bunnies and exotics also." The dog barks and scratches the woman's leg.

"It looks like your little friend here wants some attention," Roxanne smoothly segues into the portion of the interview where they introduce some of the animals available for adoption. "What can you tell me about this little guy?"

"Well, Rusty here is about 3 years old and he—"

Suddenly one of the people milling around the adoption pens runs toward Roxanne. She barely has time to gasp in surprise before 86 and 112 spring into action. They had been floating in their accustomed on-camera positions, just outside of the shot but close enough to get to Mommy in an instant if necessary. They see the man before she does and immediately move to intercept. Because no weapons are visible, 86 only zaps a warning shot that hits the pavement inches from the man's shoe, which makes him flinch and hesitate just long enough for the bots to get into position between him and Mommy. They bowg menacingly at him and he dodges one way before jumping the other to try to get around the machines. The bots block him and grab his arms, but not before he manages to toss the contents of his super-sized plastic drink cup at the reporter.

The thick liquid that hits her directly in the face isn't a milkshake. It's paint. Light blue paint that covers her entire face and splashes down her neck and the front of her navy dress. Momentarily blinded by the paint in her eyes, Roxanne hears the man scream but doesn't see 112's sawblade jaw clamps onto his wrist and slice into his flesh. She frantically clears the paint from her eyes and watches the two bots struggle to haul the large man off his feet. He's fighting them so hard that they need to use both jaws and pincers to hold him. He slips their grip once and they knock him to the ground at her feet. He flails his arm out to swipe at her ankle and she jumps back to avoid him. 86 zaps his hand with its laser, making him scream again and pull it back, cradling it to his chest. Eventually they wrestle him under their control, together holding him securely in mid-air.

The two bots worry that Mommy is vulnerable to a second attack while they're stuck dealing with this man. They twitch their eyestalks around nervously, ready to shoot anyone else who threatens her. They send a priority request back to the lair for backup.

Once the man realizes he can't get loose he stops trying and starts yelling instead. "Goddamn robot monsters! Let me go! They're cutting my fucking arm off! Unnatural freak robots! Tell them to let me go, you evil bitch!" Roxanne knows the bots are causing the man serious injury, but she also knows better than to release him. Who knows what he'd do if he got close to her? She wishes she could just zap him into a harmless blue cube, but she doesn't have Megamind's gun. She doesn't even have the forget-me stick. Her blood runs cold as he begins to rant, talking as much to the crowd standing mute and stunned around them as to her, "I'm onto you, evil bitch! You're just like him, you ought to look like him too so everyone can see! You both think we're all _stupid_, don't you? That we can't see what you're planning? You think you're going to convince the whole city that he's changed? Get us to turn our backs on the both of you and those evil robots of his. Make us forget _what_ he is? Fucking blue Martian should have been sent back to Alpha Centauri when he landed! He doesn't belong here! He should go back where he came from and find some blue bitch to _fuck_! He ain't got no right to touch a human, even a worthless piece of shit like you! You're a traitor and a whore! How long were you _fucking_ him behind Metro Man's back? You're _disgusting_! He ain't even a man! He's an _animal_ and he belongs in a cage! You're fucking an animal you sick slut!"

Roxanne had heard all of this hateful script before. Though most of the city accepts her marriage, a loud minority are like this man, thinking she's sick for loving Megamind. There are whole discussion boards online dedicated to spewing this poison and the shock jocks on talk radio love to vent about it, as if her sex life were the public's business. Of all the accusations and insults habitually thrown her way, the part that always cuts her worst is when they insist that Megamind isn't even a man. That he is some sort of sub-human creature, undeserving of any sort of happiness or love. He'd put up with that all his life and it's part of the reason he'd been a supervillain for so many years. It's something she'd never believed even when he was the villain. She hates knowing that the child growing inside of her will have to deal with the same bigotry this idiot is preaching.

The man's ranting is suddenly too much to take. She steps up to him and raises her arm to slap him hard across the face. The man flinches away, but there's a grin on his face. The bots pull him backwards out of her reach before she can strike him. "Go ahead bitch! Do it! Slap me. You know you want to."

Her eyes narrow as she realizes that this is a trap. He wants her to hit him. He's trying to enrage her until she loses control of herself. "You're right," she says to her bots, "He's not worth it."

The man spits right in her face.

She wipes it away with the back of her hand, wet paint staining that as well. She deliberately turns her back on him, walking away with her hands balled into fists at her side. If she'd stayed an instant longer she'd have really hit him, and not with a flat hand. It's better to walk away. Violence doesn't solve anything and she knows the police are just looking for any reason to haul her in because they can't touch Megamind. She will not assault a man that her brainbots are holding pinned and helpless. Her hands are shaking as she tries to tune out the man's foul taunting.

Her cameraman, Allen walks up beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. 86, skittish and unable to release its prisoner, fires a warning shot across the man's shoulder, purposely hitting only the pavement behind him. The black man jumps back, hands in the air, "Shit! I was just being friendly, eighty-six," he tells the bot he'd been working around for the last three weeks, "I'm wasn't going to hurt her. Geez! Lighten up!"

_Bow-Bow-Bowg Bowg!_ It scolds him.

"86! Leave Allen alone," she orders her bot. They stare at each other a moment until the bot's programming forces it to turn its eyestalk away, breaking eye contact and acknowledging her dominance and security rights. The captive begins to rant again. Roxanne muses, "God, what I wouldn't give for a nice strip of duct tape."

"Don't let him get to you, Roxanne," Allen tells her, "There are always going to be bigots around. You can't let them control your life." He swipes a towel off a folding table near the animal pens and hands it to her.

"Thank you," she responds, using it to wipe the paint from her face. Unfortunately, she only succeeds in removing the excess and blending the rest into a more uniform coating. "How's that look?" she asks, not having access to a mirror in the middle of the parking lot.

"Smurfy," he answers with a grin.

She tilts her head and glares at him, a look that clearly says, _I am not amused._

"Sorry. You kind of smeared it around. I think you're even bluer now than you were."

"Great." She throws her towel back down on the folding table, "Well, tell Paul that I can't go on camera until I get this cleaned off of me, then."

"He's not going to like that. He's been screaming at me to get you back on-camera to report on it." His fingers fiddle with the cell phone he's holding. He's supposed to call their boss back the moment everything was over.

"He wants me to go on looking like this?" She gestures toward her face and then to the front of her dress. "He's nuts! The wacko waited until we were live before splashing me. I don't want to give him anymore publicity than I have to. Tell him I'll do a quick follow-up, but not on-camera. Audio only."

"He's not going to like that. He wants a picture of you painted blue."

"He's always pushes sensationalism. He ought to be in charge of a tabloid, not a news program. Ask him what the network will think of him forcing a reporter to appear in _blue_ face on the news. And make sure he knows exactly what that means."

The cameraman smiles, but his response is interrupted by the growl of a propulsion system overhead and the bowg-bowging of two dozen brainbots. Overhead, Megamind slides his hoverbike to a graceless stop, studying the scene underneath him. The panic that had spurred him to rush over at full speed when he'd received 86's distress call fades when he sees Roxanne standing unharmed with her cameraman and a stranger held in the arms and jaws of her bots. Satisfied that no threats appear immanent, he orders his bots to keep their eyes open and lowers his bike to ground level.

Megamind's arrival scatters the crowd to the far edges of the parking lot. Some of them retreat all the way across the street. They don't entirely leave the area, however. If there's one thing nearly bi-weekly acts of terror have taught the citizens of Metro City, it's to find a safe place to stand and then enjoy the show. Unlike the old days, no one boos.

Roxanne is at her husband's side as soon as he touches down. "Ollo, Dear. I heard you needed help," he greets her as he swings himself off his bike.

"Not really," she answers. She kisses him on the cheek to the _awws_ of the crowd. "Everything's under control." She's relieved by his presence. He always makes her feel safe.

He drapes an arm over her shoulder as he looks all around him. "So I see," he acknowledges. He can't relax, standing out here in the open with people watching. He feels threatened, but stands straight in the face of it. He wishes he wore a cape to cloak his form and a high collar and spikes to intimidate. But only villains and heroes wear capes and he considers himself neither. So, he wears nothing different than what an ordinary citizen would, though his shirt collar is turned up to protect his sensitive neck. His hand unconsciously strokes his weapon sitting in its holster. It and the woman at his side give him confidence. He's glad that the people are keeping their distance.

He turns to his wife and studies the effect of the paint on her face and neck. He pushes a lock of blue-tinted hair behind her ear, making her smile. "You look sexy blue," he tells her with a wink, "Is he the one I have to thank for your new look?" He jerks his head in the direction of the man the brainbots are holding. The man is silent for once, just staring at the alien with a cruel sneer on his face.

"That's the one," she agrees, a bit surprised that he doesn't seem more upset by the bigot's attack on her.

"Hmmm… I think I'll just have a word with him." He removes his arm from around her and steps toward the captive.

She grabs his hand, stopping him and making him turn back to her. "I've already heard what he has to say." She wrinkles her nose. "I'd rather if you just dehydrated him."

"Maybe I'll do that too," he answers, drawing his de-gun from its holster. He paces slowly toward the stranger, a contemplative look on his face. He crooks a finger of his free hand toward his brainbots and they obediently approach with their prisoner held tightly between them. "Why did you paint my wife blue?" he asks because it seems like the obvious place to start.

The man glares at him, clearly trying to decide whether to answer or not. His eyes travel to the glowing gun in the alien's hand. It doesn't intimidate him, but makes him angry instead. How _dare_ this criminal threaten _him_. Him! An upstanding citizen of Metro City. Why did he paint the slut blue? Wasn't it obvious? "To make my point. I want everybody to see her for what she is."

"And what is that?" he asks with a smile that shows his teeth.

"Your fucking whore," he shouts, loud enough for the crowd to hear.

The blue man ignores the insult. He grew up in a prison. Such crude language is familiar and doesn't faze him. Besides, he recognizes it as bravado. What else can the man do while he's pinned helpless in midair. "You painted my wife blue so everyone would know that she's mine?" he asks, making sure he understands the man's motivation.

"Goddamn right I did! She can't stand there on the camera and pretend she's some good, wholesome role model for the city anymore. Good women sure as hell don't marry supervillains! I want everybody to see what she's hiding. That she's just another evil freak like you!"

The alien chuckles as if the man had just said something extremely funny, "She married me, wears my ring, took my name, moved into my home," he leaves out _is carrying my child_, though he thinks it, " and my brainbots follow her around wherever she goes. Do you really think there's anyone in all of Metrocity," he gestures around himself at the crowd watching this exchange from a safe distance, "who _doesn't_ know she's mine?" He shakes his head, smiling in amusement, "You didn't accomplish anything. All you did was ruin one of her dresses and give her an excuse to take the afternoon off. I should be thanking you." He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leans toward him, "I'm considering painting the rest of her blue when we get home," he smirks.

That pushes the man to a fresh bout of cussing and struggling against the brainbots. He screams as his flailing makes 112's jaws rip the wound in his arm wider. Megamind sighs at the idiot and decides to dehydrate him before he injures himself further. He doubts there's anything more to learn from the man. He's just a lone nutcase trying to push his ignorant opinions on everyone else. Megamind pulls the trigger and a blue cube clatters onto the pavement.

The two brainbots bowg in relief, glad to have the man transformed into a more convenient form. 86 retrieves the glowing cube and they both resume their customary guard positions on either side of their mommy.

"Shall we go home, my dear?" Megamind asks, walking back to his wife and gallantly offering her his left arm.

"I would love to, but I need to talk to the police. I want to press charges against that jerk. That was a hate crime and I'm not about to let him get away with it. And you should get out of here before the police show up."

"Too late," he tells her as a single black and white squad car rolls into the parking lot. Obviously, the officers hadn't been notified that Megamind was here or else there'd be more. The ex-supervillain slowly and obviously holsters his weapon. He doesn't put his hands up, but keeps them in plain sight, not wanting to make the officers twitchy. His eyes flick toward his hoverbike, too far away for an easy get away. Still, he does have the officers out-numbered.

He stays where he is, neither moving toward or away from the police as the car comes to a stop. The officers gape at the alien and the driver reaches for the radio handset and speaks into it. Megamind recognizes a man calling for backup when he sees it. He starts to hear sirens in the distance. Time to go. He raises his hand and places two fingers in the corners of his mouth. He blows a shrill whistle and is almost immediately surrounded by silent brainbots awaiting orders.

"Come home soon," he tells his wife and she nods in agreement. He gives her a quick peck on the cheek, then turns to look straight at the police officers as he walks with deliberate slowness toward his hoverbike. The officers are frozen in shock, their eyes moving from one red brainbot eye to another. He mounts up and kick starts his bike. It growls deep and loud as he guns it twice for show. When the police still don't do anything except stare, Megamind smirks and gives them a little wave. Then he surges up into the air, his swarm of brainbots following in his wake. The crowd walks out into the street to catch a better view as he disappears among the tall buildings.

Once her husband and the bots are gone, Roxanne walks confidently over to the police cruiser, stopping a few yards away. She knows that the police will be spooked by her and her bots almost as much as they are by Megamind, so she doesn't approach too closely. She waits patiently for the driver to roll down his window. "Good afternoon, officers. I'm glad you're here. I was attacked by a man in the crowd and I want to press charges."

The officers eye her blue-painted skin and dress, "Y-yes ma'am," he answers after a moment, "Who was it that attacked you?"

She plucks the blue cube from her brainbot's pincer and holds it up for the officers to see. "Him," she answers.


	44. Newspaper Clippings

**So, to make up for it taking so long, how about I give you a little newspaper clippings chapter too? In case you didn't notice, I published two chapters at once this time. :)  
><strong>

_June 17, 2009_

_Pharmaceutical Shipment Hijacked_

_A shipment of pharmaceuticals bound to a Walgreens distribution center in Metro City was stolen yesterday. The truck was later found parked at the docks, its trailer completely empty and its driver bound and gagged. The driver was unable to give the police any information about the perpetrator of the crime, but the police say the method points to Louis Vaccarro, otherwise known a Psycho Delic, as the prime suspect. The driver reports lapsing into a psychotropic state while stopped at a railway crossing. _

_Ed Carlsen  
>Metro City Monitor<em>

_June 28, 2009_

_Roxanne Megamind: Pregnant? _

_Roxanne Megamind, wife of the former supervillain, may have a blue bun in the oven. This according to an anonymous source working at Channel 8 News. According to Mrs. Megamind's co-worker, the reporter has twice been witnessed vomiting in the ladies room and has seemed ill in the mornings for most of the last month, even before her marriage. She's also been spotted in the waiting room of Dr. Janice Edwards, an OB/GYN with an office at Metro City Medical Center. Neither the doctor's office nor Mrs. Megamind would comment on her condition. _

_Is this the reason for Mrs. Megamind's hasty marriage? Keep watching. If true, it should become apparent by autumn. _

_Cat Jackson  
>Metro Daily News<em>

_June 30, 2009_

_"This is Roxanne Megamind live from the studio. Today we announce the winner of our _Name the Brainbot_ contest. Today's winners have been chosen by your votes and approved by Megamind himself. So, without further adieu, I would like to present to you: Spike and Lightning! These names were chosen by Bobby Fullton who goes to Sunny Valley Elementary and Mrs. Roberta Wolfe of Golden Acres Retirement Community. Both of them will be receiving autographed photos of the bot they named as well as their own genuine Megamind cape. Congratulations! I'd like to thank all the viewers who participated in this contest. It was loads of fun to see all the wonderful names you came up with." _

_July 2, 2009_

_Megamind, Metro Man Testify in Rape Case_

_Today Mr. and Mrs. Megamind and Mr. Wayne Scott appeared in Metro City Superior Court to testify in a case involving the rape of an unnamed minor on June 8__th__. The defendant, Mr. James Perry, pled not guilty. Allegedly, Megamind discovered Perry in the act and pulled him off the victim. He then dehydrated the suspect. Both Megaminds stayed with the victim until Scott arrived. Scott took the victim to the hospital and Perry to jail. Tomorrow the jury is expected to consider testimony of officers at the scene when Perry was rehydrated in his cell among other evidence. A verdict is expected early next week. _

_Tom Wiggins  
>Metro City Monitor<em>

_July 5, 2009_

_Metro City Prison Fire Enables Breakout_

_Independence Day brought unexpected fireworks to the women's wing of the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted. Warden William Laird reports that the initial fire was small and contained to only one cell: the one holding Mrs. Katherine Riley, otherwise known as Hot Flash. The fire was directed at the bars of Riley's cell and was of sufficient temperature to soften the metal enough for the convicted arsonist to bend them. Once free of her cell, Riley used her pyrokinetic abilities to keep the guards at bay long enough to make her escape. Laird says the prison is looking into why the medications used to control Riley's superhuman abilities did not work yesterday. Riley may have built up a tolerance to the chemicals, managed to avoid taking her prescribed dose, or the medication she took may have contained the wrong compound. _

_Citizens are advised that all three members of the Doom Syndicate are now at large and are considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you spot them, get to a safe location before alerting authorities. They have a history of injuring and killing bystanders. _

_Shirley Landreth  
>Metro City Monitor<em>

_July 5, 2009_

_Metro Man's Whirlwind Romance_

Many Metro City citizens have been concerned over how Metro Man is truly taking his ex-girlfriend's sudden and unexpected marriage to his archenemy. Though he's publically insisted he's happy for the couple and was never more than good friends with the reporter anyway, many of us have wondered if our hero was merely putting on a brave face. Well, worry no more! It seems our favorite white knight may have found himself a new lady love, and this one is no damsel in distress! Metro Man has been spotted on two separate occasions flying through the sky with our fair city's newest super: Whirlwind.

Who is this mysterious white-haired woman and is there truly romance in the air? Only time will tell.

Cat Jackson  
>Metro Daily News<p>

**Review please. **


	45. Another Lunch with Wayne

Metro Man steps into the familiar bar and grill and the bartender greets him warmly from behind the bar, "Hey, Metro! How's the hero gig treating you?"

"Oh, same as usual. How's business?" he asks, always pleased to have a normal conversation with someone for a change. No banter, no ridiculous declarations of love from random citizens; just two men exchanging inconsequential small talk. He never discusses anything of any real importance with the man, but enjoys their conversations purely for their relative normalcy. It's something he has precious little of in his life. He heads toward the bar and chooses his usual stool.

"Great! You shoulda seen the place last night! It was packed to the rafters. Glad the fire inspector didn't show up. I'm not sure if we were under capacity or not," he confides.

"You know that isn't safe, Pete," he scolds gently, without any real intention of reporting him.

"I know, I know. But what am I gonna do? Turn down paying customers?" he argues.

"Pete…" Metro Man sighs, knowing his position as protector compels him to say something.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Public safety is more important than profits." He waves off the hero's argument, "If I give you a beer will spare me the speech?"

He grins. "You drive a hard bargain, my friend."

"Yeah, yeah. Here ya go big guy," The barkeep pops the cap off and slides a frosty bottle into the white-clad hero's hand. It's from a local microbrewery, Metro Beer. It's Metro Man's preferred brand and he's even done some commercials for the place, always ending with a message about drinking responsibly.

He takes a pull from the beer and sits on the barstool, facing out into the room. It's nearly two in the afternoon and the place is dead. There are only two occupied tables. An old man who's normally here at this time of day sits at a booth by a window reading the day's paper while nursing a beer and polishing off his burger and fries. He'd glanced up at the superhero when he'd entered, but had merely nodded and turned back to his business. Metro Man is a regular here and it's one of the few places where he can go without being constantly stared at by everyone in the room. Of course, the bar attracts some gawkers, but at least

most of the customers leave him alone. Pete does his best to keep his patrons from making pests of themselves, a service Metro Man appreciates.

The second occupied table hosts a young couple he'd never seen before. They're back in the corner near the fire escape, watching the room and staring right at him, grinning. No doubt they're thrilled to see the hero up-close. He hopes they don't come over asking for an autograph. "Hey, Pete, I want to give you a heads-up. I'm meeting someone here in a few minutes and I'd appreciate it if you'd keep the rubberneckers back."

"Don't I always?" he asks. The bartender is busy wiping down the area behind the bar and tidying up. "Anybody I know?"

The hero smiles. "Yeah," he takes another sip of beer, "Megamind. Probably Roxy too."

Pete doesn't respond immediately, but considers his answer carefully before saying. "Well, I suppose so long as you're here, it's not like he's gonna cause any trouble." He lapses into silence as he rearranges some of the shakers and bottles. Then he observes, "It shocked the hell out of all of us when those two up an' got married like that. I did _not_ see that coming. You think he's really retired?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he is," he answers truthfully, "She told me she was going to save him when they first started seeing each other. I never thought she would, though. To tell the truth, I thought I'd probably be hauling her off to prison right alongside him before too long." He sighs in relief, remembering the day he'd tried to talk her out of dating the villain. "I've never been so glad to be wrong in my life."

The bartender looks over at him, a twinkle in his eye. "When you said you was meeting someone, I was gonna guess it'd be that new super lady you been flying around with. Whirlwind's the name, right?" He'd heard rumors about the two of them and wants to know if they're true.

"One of her names anyway," he agrees, "It sounds like she might have a different name for every city she's lived in." That fact worries him and that worry is plain on his face.

"You think she's a villain?" the perceptive man asks.

"I don't know. I hope not." He downs his beer like it was soda pop, which it might as well be for all the effect it has on his invulnerable system.

Pete opens a second and passes it over without Metro Man ever asking. Pete usually gives the hero his first beer on the house. He knows he'll make it up on volume. Metro Man's alcohol intake is limited only by his bladder capacity. As far as the bartender can tell, the superhero doesn't get drunk. "When are you expecting them to show up?"

"Anytime now. Megamind isn't usually late," he answers. He turns his gaze toward the front of the building, briefly engaging his x-ray vision to check the street outside for his friends. "Why don't you get me a basket of fries while I wait."

"Sure," he answers, marking the order down on his pad and walking it over to the kitchen to hand off the ticket.

The couple in the far corner has waited long enough. It's two o'clock now. "Yoo-hoo! Metro Man," the woman calls. His back tenses imperceptibly, but he doesn't turn around. Another fangirl. Just when he was beginning to relax and enjoy himself. He meets Pete's eye. The bartender tosses his bar towel over his shoulder and walks toward the end of the counter, preparing to go ask the lady to please leave the hero alone.

"I think he's ignoring you my dear," comes a familiar voice, pitched loud enough for the hero to hear without any enhanced hearing, "Over here, old friend."

Metro Man spins on his stool, facing into the room and toward the table in the far corner. The couple looks the same as they did before. The woman is blonde wearing a T-shirt and jeans, both tight-fitting. The man has dark hair and wears a leather jacket and jeans. Neither face is familiar. Metro Man is confused. He wonders why he thought he knew that voice? "Do I know you?" he asks.

"You're not very perceptive today," the man observes, steepling his fingers in front of him and looking the taller man in the eye. "Look closer."

This time Metro Man looks close enough to notice the man's startling green eyes and, on his left arm, a silver and black watch that's more than just a watch. "Megamind!"

"Bravo, Metro Mahn," he drawls, "I said I'd meet you here at two, and here I am. Right on time."

Metro Man takes his beer and moves to his former rival's table, taking one of the two empty chairs, avoiding the one that stands with its back to the room. "You can't stand to just walk into a room, can you? You always have to make an entrance."

The woman he now knows is Roxanne, giggles, "You know he lives for this stuff, Wayne. Let him have his fun."

He studies his ex-rival, noting the twinkle in his green eyes. The man obviously enjoyed his little trick. "Fine, you got me," he concedes good-naturedly, "Now shut off those disguises so I can see who I'm talking to."

"And have Metrocity's finest sweep in and take me off to prison? I think not," scoffs the disguised man.

"They won't. You have my word," the hero promises.

Megamind turns to his wife, tilting his human-seeming head slightly in silent query. She nods and switches off her own watch. As her real face shimmers into existence, he sighs and turns off his disguise as well. Although he's still wearing blue and black, today the blue is in the form of a pair of faded jeans and the black is a button-up shirt with the collar turned up over the back of his neck. Metro Man wonders if he'll ever get used to seeing the other alien in normal street clothes. Well, nearly normal. The man does have his customary gun in a holster strapped to his leg.

Megamind is well aware how clothing influences people's perceptions. By abandoning his signature supersuit, he makes the statement that he's no longer the villain. But with the villain's persona goes some of the respect and fear that have helped to keep him safe for years. It makes him nervous. The familiar de-gun does wonders to maintain his confidence. So does his wife's presence by his side. She's good with people and can usually diffuse awkward situations with a smile and a well-turned phrase. Despite his amazing intellect, the subtleties of human social interactions still give him trouble, but he is getting better at it.

Roxanne clasps his blue hand under the table, squeezing it encouragingly. This is the first time they've been out together in public intentionally undisguised. She knows it makes him feel exposed and vulnerable. "It'll be okay," she assures him, "This place is safe. Pete will keep people from bothering us."

Megamind glances at the bartender. He's back behind the bar, apparently refilling salt and pepper shakers. The man watches the room while he works, but doesn't seem concerned by Megamind's presence. When he notices the blue man watching him, he smiles and nods in a professionally polite manner and continues with his task as if nothing were amiss.

"So…" starts the hero uncertainly, "Have you been here long?"

"About twenty minutes," Roxanne answers, "He—" She her husband in the side. "—insisted on arriving early and casing the place first."

"It's never a bad idea to know what you're getting into ahead of time," he defends himself, "I wouldn't want walk right into a trap."

"I wouldn't ambush you, little buddy," Metro Man objects.

He doesn't look entirely convinced. "Perhaps," he concedes, "But it's a habit that has saved my life on several occasions, so I don't think I'll be abandoning it. And don't call me that. It's demeaning."

"Sorry." The graying hero turns his attention to Roxanne, "So, how are you holding up Roxy?" He looks around to make sure no one's close enough to overhear and lowers his voice, "Still battling morning sickness?"

"Ugh! Yes!" she answers, her voice low as well, "I'll be so happy when I can eat something before lunchtime and have it actually _stay down_. It _is_ getting better, though. My mom says she had the same thing when she was pregnant with me. Apparently it runs in the family."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Yeah, some. But I'm _starving_ again. I swear, the baby's only this big," she holds her hand up with her forefinger and thumb about an inch apart, "but it eats like its daddy."

"And how do I eat?" challenges her husband.

"At all hours and never what you should be eating." She grins and bumps her knee into his playfully under the table. He hooks his boot around her ankle and traps it with his other foot. She lets him have his prize, knowing that he feels most at ease when he can touch her.

"Oh, so that espresso ice cream at 1 am last night was the baby's fault?" he teases her, rubbing the side of his foot against hers slightly.

"It had to be. I hate espresso ice cream," she answers, as if that explained everything.

Megamind smiles fondly and shakes his head. He starts to say something further on the subject, but snaps his jaw shut as he sees Pete approaching the table with the basket of fries Metro Man had ordered earlier. He also has another beer. He places the fries and beer in front of Metro Man and picks up the empty. "Good afternoon, ma'am. I haven't seen you in here in awhile. Are you ready to order your drinks?" Without waiting for an answer he proceeds to tempt her with some of the beverages he knows from previous visits that she has a preference for. Roxanne is also a regular here. "We have a special on Margaritas this week. I also have some more of that cherry wine you liked last time. Or maybe a Long Island Iced Tea?"

"Sweet Tea, please. But just the regular stuff."

Pete finds that order from her peculiar. Roxanne's not an alcoholic (he's tended bar long enough to recognize those), but she almost always has a drink with her meal when she comes in. He wonders if that means the rumors about her are true, but holds his tongue. It isn't his place to pry. So, instead, without missing a beat, he says, "Sure thing. How about you sir?" He turns to Megamind and makes a guess at the type of drink the man might be interested in. "We've got all the major brands of beer on tap and a good selection of imports and microbrews in the bottle. The list is there on the table, if you're interested." He gestures toward the beer and wine list sandwiched between the condiments and advertising in the center of the table, but the former villain makes no move to pick it up. "Or, if you'd prefer soft drinks, we have Pepsi products—"

"I'll take coffee," Megamind interrupts before the man has a chance to go through his entire drink selection.

Pete considers the novel possibility that the retired supervillain is a teetotaler. That would also explain Roxanne's non-alcoholic order. Pity. The explanation that she's expecting would be far more interesting.

"And more fries for Wayne," she says, grabbing his basket and pulling it in front of her, "These are mine." She takes the pepper shaker from the middle of the table and proceeds to sprinkle the contents liberally onto her stolen food.

"Hey!" Metro Man objects.

"Oh, you big baby. You can wait another five minutes," she declares.

"Well, now I'll have to since you've ruined them with too much pepper," he complains.

She pops a fry in her mouth eloquently, daring him to make something of it. Megamind smirks in approval, sliding his hand onto her knee under the table. Metro Man wonders if they think he doesn't notice.

"O-kay," their server says, "Are you folks ready to order your food, or should I give you a few minutes?"

"I know what I want," Metro Man answers, "You two?"

"Me too. Sweetie?"

"No, but you two order first. I'll know by the time you're finished," he answers, opening one of the laminated menu their server had dropped off when he'd seated them. He glances at each of its three pages. To the observer, it appears that he's just skimming, but Roxanne knows he's probably carefully reading each entry. He's that fast.

"Buffalo chicken wrap," she tells Pete.

"Double bacon cheeseburger," answers Metro Man.

"Apple pie ala mode with caramel sauce. And whipped cream," orders Megamind, stacking the menu back with the others for Pete to take. Both his tablemates look at him strangely. "What? I already ate _my_ lunch."

Roxanne rolls her eyes. Pete says something about bringing those out soon and wanders back to his place behind the bar. Once he's gone, Megamind rests one elbow on the table and props his chin in his hand. "So, what's so important that you need to talk to me about?" he asks. His other hand, still under the table, traces up and down his wife's thigh. Wayne pretends not to notice.

"Well, there are several things, really." He rolls his bottle between his fingers, considering how to proceed, "Have you heard about that new super? Whirlwind?"

"I heard you've been flying around with her," Megamind's knowing grin makes Metro Man blush.

"Yeah, well…" he clears his throat, "She's really something. I never realized before how much I wanted to just _fly_ with a woman. I mean, without having to carry her. No offense Roxy."

She smiles, "None taken." Then she thinks, "But, I'm confused. Haven't you flown with other supers before? I know you're not the only one with the power of flight."

"Yeah, but it's not the most common power. I've only met a handful of flying women in my life, and none of them were quite… like her." His eyes gaze off dreamily into the middle distance.

The couple exchange incredulous looks, Megamind smothering a very un-villainous giggle at his former rival's obviously smitten state.

Roxanne recovers first. "Well, congratulations Wayne. I'm glad you found someone," she tells her friend sincerely. She wants to see him happy. Lately she'd thought he didn't seem very content with his life, even before she'd run off with Megamind. She hopes this new girl will cheer him up.

"Too bad she's a villain," interjects Megamind, the evil glint back in his eye.

"Why would you _say_ that!" Roxanne objects. Of all the mean, inappropriate things to say—

"No, Roxy. That's actually one of the things I wanted to know. She says she's been on the run since she was seventeen. I'd like to think she's on the right side of the law, but I'm afraid that she isn't."

"Did you run a background check?" Megamind asks.

"Yeah, but whatever she's been up to, she's barely left a trace. It makes me think that she's either a very minor player—"

"Or very subtle one," finishes Megamind.

The hero nods seriously. "The FBI has no records on her. The Heroes Consortium doesn't either. Neither do the Holders of Justice or the Righteous Defenders League. I even checked the Neutral Power's Registry. None of them have any records of a super meeting her description; not hero, villain, or neutral. I did find some references from local news outlets around the world that I think are describing her. But they're no more specific than what the news has been running about her here. For a super with her powers, she's stayed under the radar remarkably well. I was wondering if you could check with the Alliance of Evil? See if they know who she is?"

"Sorry, I can't. My lifetime membership was revoked last week. My retirement from evil is now official." He takes one of Roxanne's fries, brushes most of the pepper from it, and eats it. Then he adds, "Metrocity is now officially up for grabs, by the way."

"Crabnuggets."

He shrugs. "I warned you it was coming." He pauses for a moment, contemplating stating what seems very, very obvious to him, "You know, I wasn't kidding about her being a villain. It's fairly likely that she's here to stake her claim to Metrocity and make a name for herself. She might think you'll go easy on her because she's female, especially if she can use her womanly wiles on you. It wouldn't be the first time a city's hero and villainess were attracted to each other."

"Yeah, and you know how well _that_ always works." He rolls his eyes sarcastically.

"Might be fun, though," the blue man teases.

"No. The hero can't date the villainess." He sighs in frustration and runs his fingers through his perfect hair. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"Wayne, some things are more important than your reputation," she says quietly, but seriously. "Look at me and Megamind. If I'd let my reputation rule _my_ life, I'd still be single and I'd miss out on the best thing that ever happened to me." Megamind smiles and squeezes his mate's knee. The feeling is definitely mutual. "I don't want to see you to give up before you've even tried."

"The city would fire me if they find out I'm seeing a villainess," he states, unmoved by her argument.

"Hmm…" Megamind taps his chin as if in thought. "If only you had a multi-billion dollar family business to fall back on..." Roxanne frees her foot from his just far enough to kick him in the in the ankle, "Ow!" he objects.

She knows he's not hurt, so she ignores him. Instead, she turns to the hero. "Aren't you jumping to conclusions? You don't actually _know_ that she's bad," she argues.

"Right. It's just a coincidence that a brand-new super shows up just weeks after the city's supervillain announces his retirement," Megaming quips.

"Oh, I haven't even gotten to the coincidence yet, little bu—my friend." Metro Man shakes his head and takes a deep breath, preparing to share the most unlikely detail about the mysterious Lady Doppler, "Have you ever heard of a place called Korbalst?"

That gets Megamind's attention. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms across his chest. "Not since I was an infant." He narrows his eyes suspiously. "How do _you_ know that name?" Megamind is certain he's never mentioned it to the glaupunk.

"Where's Korbalst?" Roxanne asks. She'd never heard of it.

"If what Whirlwind told me is true, it was the fourth planet of the Tet'lijor star system, where Megamind and I came from. Is that right?" he directs his question at Megamind.

"Yes." The viln nods. "But your accent is atrocious."

"You're one to talk, you _still_ can't pronounce Metro City."

"_Can't_ and _choose not to_ are two different things. Metro City," he pronounces just to prove the point, careful to make it come out as two distinct words, though the o still doesn't come out quite right.

The glaupunk rolls his eyes.

"Why does Miss Whirlwind know the name of a dead planet?" Megamind asks, returning to the subject as if he had never left it.

"She says she's a balsti. Is that the right word?"

"If she's claiming to be from Korbalst, it is."

"Do you think it's possible she really is?"

He considers the question for a moment. Finally admitting, "I don't know. I didn't see any pods other than yours when we left. Of course, I couldn't see Korbalst at all. I think it was on the other side of the accretion disk. The balsti could have sent out an entire fleet of ships and I wouldn't have seen it past that gas cloud."

"No. She said she was sent alone, like we were," Metro Man explains.

"I wasn't alone. I had Minion."

"You know what I mean. Did the balsti look human?"

"I don't know. I never met one. I was only eight days old, remember? The only outworlder I met before I left was the Glaupir Ambassador."

"Why would a baby meet an Ambassador?" asks Roxanne.

Megamind shrugs, "_Met_ might be too strong a word. Let's say my mother was eager to show me off to everyone she knew. The Ambassador was at court on my fifth day, so I was introduced to her there. Ambassador Hess of the clan T'stag. She cooed over me and tickled me, but unlike all the viln women, she wouldn't hold me. She said she was afraid she'd hurt me by accident, since I was just 'a _fragile_ little viln,'" He rolls his eyes as he speaks the late ambassador's words translated into English, "Mother explained to me that the glaupunk are so strong that they always have to be careful of the things they touch, for fear of breaking them. Ambassador Hess told Mother that, 'The viln just don't make things sturdy like they do on glaupir. Even your princes are like glass.' Mother didn't miss a beat, though. She just said, 'We cannot all be made of steel.'" There was a fond smile on Megamind's face at the memory of his mother's words.

Metro Man blinked. He had forgotten that Megamind claimed to be some sort of royalty on his planet. "What did she look like? This ambassador?" Metro Man asks. He has no memories of his own people and had often wondered, in particular, what the women looked like. Were they muscular, like some of the human women in muscle magazines, or more like a normal human?

Megamind pursed his lips, considering the question. "At the time I thought she was pretty strange. Her skin was the wrong color and her head was so _tiny_." Megamind smirks to himself and shakes his head at the memory of a time when someone who looked human was an oddity and his kind was normal, "I liked her eyes, though. She was the first person I'd ever seen with blue eyes. Viln eyes didn't come in blue. Green, orange, violet, brown, even yellow. But not blue." He turns to Roxanne and locked his green viln eyes on her blue human ones. "I always liked blue eyes." He sits there gazing into her eyes for several seconds, both of them grinning like the newlyweds they still are.

Metro Man wonders if Megamind remembers he's still there.

Then the blue man blinks and turns his attention back to his old rival, looking over the hero's physique with a critical eye, "She wasn't bulked up to the ree-dee-culous proportions that you are, but, for a woman, she appeared quite muscular. Still feminine, but more like a valkrie than a noblewoman. If she were human, I'd guess she was thirty-five or forty years old. She was tall, compared to a viln. Probably six feet, though it was hard to tell since she never actually stood on the floor. She floated everywhere, which I thought was a good trick. I couldn't figure out how she did it."

"All my people flew, then?" Wayne asks.

Megamind shrugs, "I don't know. I always assumed so."

"What else do you remember?" He leans forward across the table, eager to soak up every word.

He thinks back, accessing memories he hadn't consulted in years. He points at Wayne's face. "Her nose was shaped like yours, but she didn't have that massive chin you've got. Her face was striking I suppose, with high cheekbones and a widow's peak. I can't say that she was very attractive to me, either then or now, but I suppose you would have liked her. I did like her hair, though. It was brown. A bit lighter than Roxanne's, but long and braided on either side of her head with little gold beads worked into it. I'd never seen hair on a person's head before. It looked so soft and smooth. I'm afraid I threw a fit when the adults wouldn't let me touch it."

Wayne snorts at the idea of the infant Megamind having a temper tantrum. He finds it remarkably easy to believe. The little guy had always been excitable.

Megamind scowls at him, "I was only five days old, you remember. That sort of behavior is perfectly reasonable for a child that age."

Wayne clears his throat, "Of course. I'm sorry. Keep going. What else? Do you remember what she was wearing?"

"Yes, she had a white bodysuit similar to what my mother wore, but without the high collar. She was also barefoot, which seemed rather vul-gar for the throne room. Everyone else covered their feet. I remember the nails of both her toes and fingers were gold. Painted, I assume, since _your_ nails aren't metallic. And her toes weren't webbed at all."

"Why would her toes be webbed?" asks Wayne confused.

"Viln have webbed toes," Roxanne pipes in, "It surprised me too the first time I noticed."

Metro Man isn't very good at concealing how weird he thinks that is, which puts Megamind on the defensive. "Vilnsit was made up entirely of small to middle-sized islands scattered across a shallow world ocean. Most viln spent a lot of their time in the water. Why do you think we raised minion-fish as companions?"

"I... have honestly never thought about it, actually," Wayne answers. Realizing his earlier tactlessness, he apologizes, "Sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to make you feel like some sort of weird fish-man." He pauses, but when Megamind doesn't respond, he plows onward, "You don't have gills or anything, do you?"

"No!"

"Really, because that could be really useful." Okay, now he's just teasing the blue man and the hero can't help grinning.

Roxanne does her best to glare at Wayne in disapproval, but her eyes give away her amusement.

"That's about all I remember about the Ambassador," Megamind huffs, unwilling to dredge up any more memories at the moment.

"Thanks," Wayne says quietly, "I really appreciate you sharing. I don't remember them at all. I'd always wondered."

"Well, at least some good comes out of remembering everything." he concedes, his black mood leaving as quickly as it had arrived.

"But you don't remember the balsti?"

"Not other than just their name and that of their planet."

"How do you even know the planet names if you were that young?" Wayne asks. "You said you left when you were, what? Eight days old?"

Megamind nods. Wayne is correct about his age, but it _is_ a bit misleading. Vilnsit days were longer than Earth days are. More than twice as long. Even now, Megamind has trouble with his sleep cycle because his natural circadian rhythm doesn't match Earth's short days. In reality, Megamind had been approximately 18 Earth days old when he'd left his planet forever. Even so, that is still very young. Humans that age do little more than nurse and sleep, but viln brains are big for a reason. Healthy viln infants were capable of learning relatively complex ideas shortly after birth, even before they could speak. "I had a mobile in my room that was a model of the entire star system," Megamind explains, "The scale was inaccurate, obviously, but it was rigged so that the planets and moons orbited correctly. It was a standard child's toy. My parents and nurse used it to teach me my colors, numbers, and the names of all the major bodies in the system."

"At eight days old?"

"Oh, dark heavens, no! On my _eighth_ day everyone was panicking. No one had time to sing me nursery songs or teach me _anything_. I'd learned all of that easy stuff before I even _met_ the ambassador."

Metro Man stares at him in astonishment. He knew Megamind was smart, but _that_ smart? At that age? The hero finds himself reassessing his former rival.

Before he feels compelled to respond to that revelation, Pete returns to the table with their drinks, including yet another beer for Metro Man, and a new basket of fries, "Sorry that took so long. I had to brew a new pot of coffee." He sets everything in front of the right person and adds a little metal box full of sweetener packets and little plastic shots of half and half to the center of the table. Megamind immediately grabs half a dozen sugar packs, tears them open, and empties the powder into his coffee. "You food should be ready soon. Do you need anything else?"

"No, thank you," Roxanne answers for them all, "We're fine."

"All right, then," answers the server before heading back to the bar.

The men watch Pete and don't resume their conversation until the man is out of ear-shot.

"So, what does the balsti want with you?" Megamind asks.

"I'm not sure yet. I sort of insulted her when she said she was an alien from our system. It seemed too convenient to be true. I guess I owe her an apology."

"Maybe. Or she might have gotten her information from one of my uncles. I never hid my origins from the men who raised me. I don't think any of them would rat me out, but some of them are more trustworthy than others. There are good reasons most of them were in prison in the first place. For the right incentive…" He shrugs, "We can't verify her identity based just on how well her story matches my memory. We'll need a DNA sample. It's the only way to know for certain."

"Oh, she's going to _love_ that," the hero bemoans, trying to picture himself asking Whirlwind for a sample. He doubts that will go well.

Megamind sips his coffee. "What else did you want to talk to me about? You said there were several things."

"Yeah, well, I talked to Judge Fergussen. How would you like to be paroled?"

"Well, yes," the fugitive answers calmly, "I'd also like to grow a full head of hair, but that's not likely to happen."

"I like you better bald, sweetie. You'd look silly with hair." Roxanne interjects.

"She finds bald men sexy," he winks at Metro Man, "That's why you never had a chance with her."

Roxanne punches him in the side hard enough to make him go, "oof!" He captures her fist before it can do any further damage.

_Back to the point_, Metro Man thinks. "Judge Fergussen finally noticed that you pretty much walk out of prison anytime you like. She thinks that sentencing you to more time behind bars isn't the smartest idea."

"Well, I noticed a long time ago that humans, in general, are not all that smart. Present company excepted, of course." He squeezes his wife's captured hand. "I didn't expect them to ever just give up and let me go, though."

"They're not letting you go. They want you to perform some community service in exchange for your freedom."

The blue man quirks an eyebrow, "What? They want me to pick up trash in parks, or something?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"You ever considered being a _protector_?" Wayne asks with a grin.

Roxanne's eyes go wide, _Megamind, a protector?_ She turns to her husband to watch his reaction.

"You're _got_ to be kidding. Why would they even trust me to do that? I might rob whoever I'm supposed to be saving." He thinks it's a stupid idea.

"Well, that's sort of my problem. If you agree, they'll be putting me in charge of you."

Megamind's eyes narrow suspiciously, "Oh, _that's_ familiar. Are you going to fly me over to the corner if I misbehave?"

"I'll be your boss, not your jailer."

Megamind crosses his arms over his chest, "I'm not sure I like that much better. Whose brilliant idea was it to make _me_, of all people, a protector?"

Metro Man sighs and looks down at the table. "Mine."

"Yours? But… why? Do you really miss me that much?" His expression changes instantaneously as he reigns in his confusion and substitutes nonchalance instead, examining his fingernails in evident boredom. "I know I'm incredibly handsome, but I always thought you went for girls. And, even so, I'm no longer available." He turns his hand around and waggles his fingers to show off the silvery band on his ring finger. "Though, I do understand why you'd find me hard to resist," He turns on his old cocky evil grin and aims it in the hero's direction. Roxanne scowls at her husband.

A pained expression crosses Metro Man's face and he groans at his friend's immaturity. "Must you? I swear, sometimes I think you go out of your way to be irritating."

"I really do," he confirms cheerfully. "And yet, knowing what I'm like, you actually want to work with me? Why?"

Metro Man runs his fingers through his perfect hair as he collects himself. He sighs again and admits, "I need help. I've been doing this job, 24/7 on my own since I was 18. It's exhausting."

"You don't get tired," Megamind objects.

"Shows how much you know, genius." Metro Man contradicts him, "It's mentally draining. Do you know how hard it is to be constantly at the beck and call of any citizen who's in trouble in the entire city? I'm starting to really hate my life. I need a support crew. I need to be able to take a night off. I need to be able to relax and know I'm not the only one responsible for the entire city's safety."

"Isn't that what the cops and firefighters are for?" Megamind asks.

"Yeah, they _should_ be. But anything remotely dangerous and they call in the man who can't be hurt." He jabs his thumb at his own chest for emphasis.

"You know I'm not invulnerable, right?" Megamind points out, "I'm not you."

"You manage to hold your own against me. That's nothing to sneer at. Besides, most protectors aren't nearly as powerful as I am. They work with what they've got. Some of them don't have any powers at all and rely on fancy tech to give them an edge. Like you. Besides, I've seen you in action. You aren't invulnerable, but I've seen you take blows that would cripple a human and you just get up and walk away."

"And you would know, since you were the one throwing the punches." the ex-villain grumbles. Metro Man is right, though. He is tougher than a human. Some of that is the result of his alien origins. He's always been tough, though not nearly on the level of a super. It's a natural trait. The rest is the result of the specially engineered materials that make up his supersuit, which gives him added protection from blows and lacerations. He wouldn't have lasted nearly as long as he had as a villain without it.

"You were the _villain_. That was my _job_," Metro Man defends himself.

"And now it'll be my job? What do you want me to do? Walk down the street in a giant battle suit rescuing kittens from trees?" He gestures expansively, nearly knocking his coffee mug over in the process.

"Let the brainbots handle the kittens. Most of what I do is catch criminals, rescue people, destroy the occasional giant robot, and be a visible deterrent to anyone who might want to cause trouble. You can handle that, can't you?"

Megamind is quiet for a moment, considering the offer. He leans forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled in front of his nose. "Even if I wanted to, no one will accept me as a hero. That girl I rescued: do you know what she did when she saw who it was that saved her?" He pauses as if waiting for Wayne to respond, but plows on when he doesn't. "She screamed louder than she had when that monster was _raping_ her!" Again, his hands flail about to emphasize his point, then he rubs his hand up over his oversized cranium, calm again in an instant. "I couldn't get near her. Roxanne had to calm her down. How am I going to help anyone when they take one look at my devilishly handsome face and run screaming?"

"Oh, yeah. I've never had that happen to me," Metro Man responds sarcastically.

"Yeah right. Everyone loves _you_," he says petulantly.

"Well, they do _now_. But that took years of public relations work. When I first started, about half the people I rescued freaked out. I mean a huge guy flying in to save them, shooting lasers from his eyes and performing feats of superhuman strength? I've had people run back into a burning building to get away from me."

"But… at shool everyone loved you." The blue man is clearly confused.

"They were _six_, of course they loved me." He shakes his head, bemused, "I was like Peter Pan to them. But then I grew up. I wasn't cute anymore. I was dangerous. I had to _prove_ to them that I could be trusted. So will you."

"How?" Megamind asks with narrowed eyes.

"Oh, come on. You remember. I made public appearances constantly. Made sure to smile, kiss babies, display my powers in non-threatening ways."

"I thought you were just showing off. Sucking up to the mindless drones." It had never occurred to Megamind that the hero's brownnosing might have actually had a purpose.

"It might also be a good idea to stop calling the citizens that. Nobody likes to be called stupid." He takes a pull from his beer, swallowing most of it in one go. "I had to show the city that I was a good guy. You can do the same thing. You've already started that with what channel 8's been doing with those brainbots of yours. We just need to keep going. Go out there where people can see you. Maybe get you a new costume. Something in white."

"No, I am _not_ wearing white. I absolutely _draw the line_ at wearing white." He crosses his arms over his chest and scowls at the hero. He thinks this isn't going to work.

"But heroes wear white." Metro Man argues.

Roxanne had been silent up to this point, but now she feels the need to intervene. "Not every hero's a boy scout like you, Wayne. I can't imagine Megamind ever being _that_ sort of hero."

"I'm having trouble with the idea of being a hero at all," he grumbles.

"I'm not," she answers, capturing his hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze, "I think you'd be a much better hero than a villain."

"_Super_villain," he corrects her. He's always picky on that point.

"Super_hero_," she challenges.

He sighs, his expression softening as he speaks to the love of his life. "You think I should do it," he states. He's sure that's what she's thinking.

"I think you need to find out exactly what terms they're offering," she answers, "You don't want to trade one prison sentence for another. But, I'd like to be able to go out in public with you, like a normal family. Especially once the baby's here." She squeezes his hand again. "I don't want to live in hiding for the rest of our lives. But, if you really don't want to, I'll stand by you. This isn't our only option."

It really isn't. They have several plans in the works that promise to give them some semblance of a normal life. He doesn't have to rely on the city for anything, if it comes right down to it. He does have an entire robot horde and technology advanced enough to make NASA look like a high school science class. But it would be easier to do it with the city's help than without. "Do you really think I can be a hero?"

"I _know_ you can. It's just a matter of whether or not you _want_ to. I don't want to push you into it."

Pete returns with their food and refills but scurries off quickly, sensing that he was interrupting something. Besides, there are customers at the door. He hurries over to seat the group of four at the far other end of the restaurant. Since they aren't regulars, he takes an extra moment to ask them not to bother Metro Man or his _guests_.

Back at the hero's table, the conversation dies for a few minutes as the three begin to eat. After scarfing down half her wrap, Roxanne gazes longingly at her husband's apple pie and ice cream. He pretends not to see her and licks his spoon deliberately slow, knowing she's watching. Just as he removes the clean flatware from his mouth, he flicks his eyes up to catch hers, a wicked smirk on his face. She blushes and bites her lower lip. He loads his spoon again and, hesitating a second just to tease her, holds it up to her mouth. She grins and eats the spoonful with exaggerated enjoyment, eyes locked with her husband the whole time.

"Guys, you know I'm still here," objects Wayne from across the table, "_This_ is why you two shouldn't be allowed out in public."

"Jealous?" Megamind asks, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously.

"If I say I am, will you stop?" he groans.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." Roxanne condescends cheerfully, "Actually, I have to visit the ladies room." She stands and kisses her blue husband on the cheek chastely. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Behave yourself, Spaceman," she warns before walking away towards the hallway that leads to the restrooms. Megamind watches her leave, appreciating the view of her rear as she walks. When she turns the corner out of sight, he looks back at his former rival's disapproving scowl. "What?"

"You were staring at her butt," he accuses.

"She's my wife. I'm allowed," he answers.

"Has no one ever taught you how to behave in public?"

"Not really, now that you mention it." Megamind grins as he sips his coffee.

"Spaceman is you, right?" Wayne asks, wanting to clarify the point.

"The one and only."

He laughs, "You're not the only alien at this table."

Megamind shrugs, "She's always called me that. The first time I kidnapped her, she asked me what I was supposed to be, some sort of spaceman? I told her I was Megamind: Incredibly Handsome Criminal Genius and Master of All Villainy and that yes, I was a man from space. I thought it might intimidate her, but it didn't. She started calling me Spaceman after that. It's funny. From anyone else it would have been insulting. But from her it never felt that way. Almost like she was flirting with me."

"She probably was but you were too dense to see it."

"That's possible. She never calls you Spaceman, does she?" Megamind asks, hoping for some reason that the pet name was his alone.

"No, buddy. She always just calls me Metro Man or Wayne. Sometimes Hero, but mostly only when she's mad at me."

Megamind nods, pleased to think he's her only Spaceman.

"So, how is she really?"

"Tired a lot. She's been falling asleep nearly as soon as she gets home from work and she's already complaining that her pants are getting a little tight. And she has to use the bathroom constantly, which baffles me. The fetus is just too small to be putting any significant pressure on her bladder at this point. It must be hormonal." He pauses to scrape the last of his half-melted ice cream out of his bowl. "All things considered, I'm actually surprised how normal it seems to be going. I'm still concerned that she'll miscarry, but everything looks like it's going well so far."

"I still think it's amazing that you even managed it." Wayne observes, shaking his head, "I mean what are the odds? You are one lucky alien." He raises his bottle toward him, as if in a toast, before polishing it off.

Megamind nods in acknowledgement, grinning. "Got it on the first try too, as far as we can tell."

"Megamind," Wayne groans, covering his face with one hand. "I really didn't need to know that."

"No, I'm not bragging about my sex-u-all prowess. Although..." his grin turns to something distinctly lecherous for a second before noticing the uncomfortable expression on Wayne's face. He shakes his head and loses the grin. "Never mind. What I mean is that it's a good sign." He leans forward, explaining in earnest, "If it had been difficult for us to conceive, I'd be more worried about complications due to my viln genes. But such a quick conception indicates that humans and viln might be virtually identical!"

Wayne cocks an eyebrow and looks the other alien up and down before observing, "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"No, no. I don't mean by looks." He shakes his head and continues, his words coming faster in his excitement to explain his theory, "Appearance can vary widely within a species without affecting fertility significantly. Just look at dogs. Would an outside observer guess that a bulldog and a greyhound were the same species? When it comes down to it, body size, hairlessness, and skin color are really very minor traits. My DNA is so _similar_ to human, that I suspected... but I just wasn't sure. After all, there are still obvious differences and I just wasn't sure if they were significant. The head, the increased toughness, the faster reflexes. None of that is human, but is it enough to matter? I didn't know. But, don't you see? This confirms it! Viln and humans might as well be the same species. We're that close." He holds up his hand with two fingers crossed together, "That is why I was sent to this planet! I'm sure of it!"

"You were sent here to breed?" Metro Man asks. He thinks it sound like the plot of a bad sci-fi movie. One where the Earth-girls all wear short skirts and high heels and not much else.

"Yes! No. Not _just_ to breed. But to find a mate and raise a family? Yes. I'm certain of it. Old friend, I'm the last of my people. What's the use of my surviving if my race dies out with me? I was sent here for a reason. I've always believed that, I just didn't know what that reason was. I think I do now."

Wayne can't exactly argue with that logic, except, "What about me, then? And Whirlwind, if what she claims is true. Why are we here? Neither of us can breed with humans."

"I don't know, maybe there wasn't a planet with glaupunk- or balsti-compatible natives. Or maybe there was, but not all in one star system. Maybe Earth was a compromise. It has to be significant that you could both _pass_ for human without ending up in some research lab."

"Well, one of us did, anyway," Wayne says quietly, thinking about Whirlwind again. It tears his heart to know what happened to her. Even if it turns out that she _is_ a villain now, nobody deserves what she went through.

"Come again?" asks Megamind, confused.

"Whirlwind was raised in an ASCA lab." he says, looking at his hands instead of Megamind, "I said she'd been on the run since she was seventeen. That's who she's been running from. Apparently she called a tornado out of the sky and single-handedly destroyed an entire research facility. She escaped, but everyone else inside died."

"And she's not a villain?"

He shrugs, "From what she tells me, it was justified."

Megamind strokes his goatee in thought before nodding, "From what I know about the ASCA, it probably was. I know what they do to subjects there."

"How do you know that?"

"Metrocity's supervillain wasn't the only position available to me when I turned eighteen. It's another reason I like my privacy. Their means of persuasion leave much to be desired. I'd rather they not know exactly where I live. Especially now."

"Now?" Wayne asks stupidly, his thoughts still on Whirlwind rather than Megamind and Roxanne.

"They've been showing some interest in Roxanne." That gets Metro Man's attention, "I think they might suspect she's pregnant. I don't want them to ever get their hands on her or our baby. I don't know what I'd do if they did." Actually, he suspects what he might do. He'd turned the idea over in his head many times as he lay awake at night with his wife curled against him. He would do whatever it took to protect them. His army is formidable and filled with weapons designed to defeat a god. He would attack and kill them all, if necessary. But worse than that is if he were captured in the attempt, because then he knew he'd do whatever they ordered just to keep his family safe. Anything. And that frightens him.

"Hey, buddy, I wouldn't let them hurt Roxie or the baby," Wayne assures him with the confidence of an invulnerable hero.

"Yes, and you've been _so_ effective at preventing her from being kidnapped in the past."

Wayne opens his mouth to speak, then rethinks his words. "Good point," he admits. "Is that why she's got the brainbots following her around most of the time?"

He nods, but doesn't say anything further because Roxanne returns to the table, sliding past Megamind and back into her own chair. Looking at Megamind's empty plate, she pouts slightly, "You ate all the ice cream."

"We have ice cream at home."

She huffs and nibbles on a cold french fry instead. "So, what are we talking about now."

"Aliens and earth women," he answers.

"Hmm," she answers, suspecting they were talking about no such thing. She doesn't have a chance to answer, however, as Wayne's head goes up, listening. "Those people over there just called into the channel 6 action news line. The woman in red. She took a cell phone picture of us and she's hoping to collect the $50 they offer for reporting breaking news."

"I hate channel six," Roxanne grouses.

"Pete's going to be furious when he finds out. He won't let them in here again," Metro Man predicts.

"What is wrong with this city that my eating lunch is considered breaking news?" Megamind complains.

"What makes you think this is about you? It could be about me, you know," Metro Man points out. "Metro Man Eats Cheeseburger: Details at six and ten."

All three laugh, although they know it's just the sort of story Metro City news stations will run on slow days. Roxanne had unfortunately endured reporting on all too many stories just as inane.

"Get out of here. I'll run interference." Metro Man plasters a radiant smile on his face and strides over to the other table.

Behind him, Roxanne follows Megamind to the emergency exit door. She doesn't see what he does, but he pops it open without triggering the alarm and they slip through. Once outside, they turn the dials on their watches and transform into an utterly non-descript middle-aged couple and walk away with no one being the wiser. Another amazing Megamind escape.

**Review please.**


	46. Misunderstanding

**I know nothing about Japan, or really any foreign country. I realize I am stereotyping the tourists. I don't mean anything bad by it. I just needed foreign tourists... to stereotype... ah... sorry. Also, my foreign language skills consist of a few words of Spanish and whatever Google Translate can provide for me. **

It's a fine, warm summer day in Metro City. The oppressive heat of July has been tempered by a pleasant breeze and a few cheerful, cottony clouds dot the sky. In the business district, office workers linger outside on their breaks and gossip about their plans for the coming weekend. Mothers push strollers down the suburban sidewalks and children fill the parks. Summer tourists wander by shop windows and sailboats drift across the placid bay. Metro Man floats above his city, his sharp eyes watching over its helpless citizens and assuring their safety. As he hovers, he hears screaming and turns toward the panicked voices. Two people, a man and a woman, cling to each other as they rocket improbably up into the sky, far above the towering buildings of the city and into the airspace usually occupied only by low-flying aircraft. Following the unexpectedly airborne people at a much more sedate pace is a familiar spandex-clad woman. Lady Doppler smiles cruelly as she releases her victims. They plummet toward the ground, shrieking in terror as they fall.

Metro Man gapes at the falling pair, his disbelief freezing him in place for an instant. He shakes himself and puts aside his shock. Without further delay to reconcile himself to the apparent and sudden confirmation of his new friend's villainy, the hero springs into action. He dives after the screaming people and scoops them into his arms, careful to slow their fall gently so as not to injure their fragile, human bodies. He saves them easily, with four hundred feet to spare. The customary gasps and applause greet his heroics and he beams at the milling crowd below. He begins his dignified descent to the ground, but before he reaches it he's accosted by outraged shouts from the enraged villainess. He hovers in mid-air to face her, her victims still held safely in his arms.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing, Metro Man?" she demands, her hands on her hips and her hair whipping around her in the gale that holds her aloft. Above her, thunder rumbles and cottony clouds thicken.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing, _Whirlwind_," he answers, using the name the city has chosen for her instead of the one she'd confided to him in private. If she plans to act as the city's villain, then he will use the city's name for her. "I don't know what possessed you to begin your villainous career by dropping these helpless citizens from the sky, but no criminal escapes hand of justice in _my_ city. Not even you."

"You _idiot!_ Give them back to me!" The wind pries at his arms and fingers, trying to release the Asian couple from their savior's grip. He tenses his muscles slightly, refusing to be moved by the insistent air. It buffets ineffectually at him, succeeding only in mussing his usually perfect hair and pulling the victims uncomfortably against his arm. The villainess growls in frustration. "I was paid good money to drop them, and that's what I intend to do!" The helpless people held firmly in the arms of the city's protector look nervously between the two floating supers, confused by the argument.

"You confess to being a paid assassin!" the hero's voice booms. "What have these innocents done to put a price on their heads?"

"Nothing, you thick-skulled glaupunk!" The wind pounds on him, emphasizing each word. "They're tourists! Their tour guide paid me to take them up in the sky and drop them!" She gestures expansively around her, "The wind would have caught them at the bottom."

His outrage loses steam. "You weren't attempting to murder them?" he asks in a somewhat less heroic tone.

"Of course not!" she screeches indignantly, "What sort of businesswoman kills off her customers? It would ruin any possibility of repeat business." She floats closer and kicks him hard in the shin, having grown tired of assaulting him with mere air. Unsurprisingly, her blow doesn't hurt him in the least, but the abuse seems to satisfy her somewhat.

"Wait… What?" It's finally sinking in that perhaps she's not an evil-doer after all. Though, her assault upon him is not exactly lawful.

She huffs in exasperation, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers as she calms herself. The excess wind subsides along with her temper. "I am the proprietress of the _Without a Chute Skydiving Company._" she explains slowly, as if to a very stupid child. She points both hands at the _victims_ still held in Metro Man's arms. _"_These are two of my customers. Mr. and Mrs. Fujiwara. They're from Wakayama, Japan."

"You own a skydiving company?"

"How do you _think_ I make my money?" _One of the ways, anyway._ She scowls at her fellow alien. "Now I'll have to give them a second drop to make up for your unnecessary _rescue_."

"So you're not a villainess," it's more a statement than a question.

"Not today," she answers truthfully, her words clipped and precise. Then she turns her attention to the couple he's still holding and speaks to them in rapid Japanese. They smile nervously at her and chuckle occasionally. The man asks her something and she frowns toward Metro Man before responding. Metro Man has no clue what they're discussing, but his name is repeated several times. It's clear the _victims_ are not scared of the white-haired woman at all. Eventually she switches back to English and tersely orders the hero to land. Embarrassed, he obeys.

Once his feet touch the ground in the city park below him, he's surrounded by an entire busload of excited Japanese tourists, a good many of whom have signed up for an afternoon skydive and the rest of which had come along as spectators. They're all thrilled to get a visit with two supers for the price of one. And not just any super, but Metro Man! Commonly thought to be the most powerful super on the entire planet! Their trip to Metro City is now perfect! Lady Doppler makes it clear to Metro Man that she expects him to submit to the bowing, photo-taking, and demands for autographs. She informs him that he owes her that much. In truth, he doesn't mind very much. No one needs rescuing at the moment and he's used to this sort of attention. While the hero entertains the crowd, Lady Doppler takes the tourists, two at a time, up into the sky and drops them. True to her word, the wind catches every one. Metro Man sticks around until she is finished, chagrinned by his mistake in thinking she was murdering people in his city.

She walks the last of the visitors, an old man who hobbles with the aid of a cane, to the door of the bus and helps him up. She smiles and calls cheerfully into the open doorway, "Sayōnara. Itsu demo modotte koi!" The door closes and the bus rolls out of the parking lot and Lady Doppler waves as it goes, giving her customers a warm farewell. Through the window, Metro Man can see several happy people waving back.

She watches until the bus turns the corner out of sight, then turns her attention to the hero. "You're still here," she observes coolly, the friendly tour guide smile gone from her face.

"Yeah," he agrees, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I think I owe you an apology."

"I agree," she answers, arms folded across her chest and scowling like a thundercloud.

"In my defense, you _were_ dropping people from several thousand feet in the air. You have to admit it's suspicious." He grins sheepishly, hoping she'll give him a break. He was only doing his job, after all.

She smirks, a small laugh acknowledges his point. "I suppose a protector _should_ err on the side of not letting innocent people get splattered on the pavement," she concedes.

He's gratified to see that little smile on her face, proof that she isn't too angry with him. "But I shouldn't have assumed that you were a villainess," he continues, hoping the admission will mollify her.

She shrugs. She knows it wasn't an unreasonable guess, so she's not truly outraged by the assumption.

The hero has an instinct that the wry smile on her face hints at secrets she isn't telling. That and her vague non-answer spurs him to speak without thought, "You're not, are you?"

Her smile vanishes. "I'm not what?" she asks, her flat tone a warning that she doesn't appreciate his question.

"A- uh," he mentally kicks himself for voicing his thought. "A villainess?" he asks, wincing as the words pass his lips. He wonders why he can't seem to keep his big mouth shut. After all, it's not as if she'd admit it if she were. And he hadn't exactly started off on the right foot with her today to begin with. This was not the time to be questioning her alignment.

"Perhaps I should not be speaking to you without the presence of counsel, Protector," she muses formally. She steps around him, hiding the new smile curving her lips and letting him squirm. His discomfort amuses her, though she doesn't blame him for the question. His accusation of villainy was wise, if ineptly voiced. In truth, she _has_ played the villainess, or at least the criminal, countless times and expects to do so again. Though, to be fair, she has also played the heroine often enough. She considers herself an independent and follows the most favorable wind. She sees no real conflict in pausing to save a life while on her way to committing a bit of larceny. Or even combining the two, for the sake of efficiency. She has, on occasion, picked a pocket in the middle of a rescue. Freelance heroism does not, in general, pay the bills. She's trying to stay on the good side of the law for now because she believes it to be the surest route to power in this city, but she's made no promises to hold that course. Things could change at any moment, and she is determined to remain flexible. At times her very life has depended on that very flexibility. But not today. Right now, the day is winding down and she still has mundane things to do. She presses the first two fingers of her right hand to the outside of her left wrist. From beneath her glove a small electronic voice speaks the time, telling her that it's four-twenty-eight pm. "It's getting late," she observes, "I have somewhere to be. Until next time, Protector." Without turning towards him or waiting for his farewell, she sets off along the sidewalk toward the tall buildings bordering the small city park, her stiletto heels clicking on the concrete with each step.

He watches her for a moment, his heart twisting in disappointment. He doesn't want her to go yet. Especially on that note. He wants to fix this. In an instant he's off his feet and flying around her, hovering in mid-air directly in her path. "Where are you off to, Lady?"

"The bank," she answers, unsure of why he's delaying her. Doesn't he have things to do? People to save? Villains to capture? Something?

Again without thinking first, he asks, "Why?" In his experience, the only reason someone dressed in a supersuit would visit a bank would be to rob it or to stop someone else from robbing it. Even going incognito, the hero hasn't set foot in a bank building to handle his own financial concerns for years. He has an accountant to handle that.

Aside from fleeting bouts of affluence after particularly lucrative (and sometimes even legal) ventures, Lady Doppler generally lives a much simpler life than the hero. She handles her own banking when she trusts her fortunes to a bank at all. She thinks the answer to his question is self-apparent. What does he _think_ she's going to do at the bank? "Oh, I thought I'd rob it," she lies offhandedly, "Would you be a dear and come along to cut the safe open for me with your laser eyes?" She flutters her lashes at him flirtatiously, biting her bottom lip to keep her face straight.

He drops suddenly from the air onto his feet in surprise and stares at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "What?! No!" He shakes himself slightly, "Of course I won't help you rob a bank! What is wrong with..." he trails off as she erupts into uncontrolled giggles.

"You're so _easy!_" she teases, hopping into the sky to spin around him while the wind playfully musses his hair. She pauses in front of him with her face mere inches from his and he wonders briefly if she's going to kiss him. She doesn't, but instead clicks her tongue several times, studying him with her inhuman senses, before blowing backwards with a peal of laughter and landing on the sidewalk in mid-stride walking away from him and towards the bank building several blocks in the distance. "Relax. I'm not robbing any banks today. I just have to cash the check for today's skydiving before the lobby closes," she calls over her shoulder to assure him of her legitimate business at the bank.

He's relieved. "Can I come along?" he asks.

She stops and turns slowly back towards him, her white eyes narrowed. Her voice takes on a wary tone. "You're really afraid I'll rob it?" she asks.

"No, it's not that," he rushes to assure her, "I just..." He grins a lopsided smile and shrugs. "Nobody needs any help right now, so I don't have anything else to do and I... I'd kind of like to spend some time with you. I mean... if you don't mind." He intentionally turns his gorgeous blue eyes toward hers in a smolder that would melt any sighted woman's heart. Regretfully, the move has no effect on her.

She purses her lips a moment as she considers bringing the big lug along, then shrugs. It's always good to cultivate allies and an alliance with Metro Man is one of the main reasons she'd moved to Metro City. "Sure, why not?" she agrees, her mood apparently once again as light and airy as the sky over her head. She hooks her arm around his bulging bicep and pulls him forward with a spring in her step. "Let's go."

They walk together down the sidewalk, two spandex-clad supers as oblivious to the stares and whispers of the pedestrians around them as their enhanced senses allow them to be. Though not shy of gawking, the crowd gives them their space, no one coming close enough to seem a nuisance or a threat. As the pair's steps fall into synchrony, Metro Man isn't really sure what to talk about and Lady Doppler does not seem inclined to fill the silence. Her heels continue to tap loudly along the concrete and she occasionally makes a series of tongue-clicks.

"Why do you do that?" he finally asks, "The clicking, I mean."

"Echo location," she answers without elaboration.

"Echo location...? That's like how bats see, right?" he asks.

"Yes. Humans can do it too, under the right circumstances. I'm not the only person on this planet who sees by clicking, but it isn't very common."

"I thought you saw with your sky-power."

"I do, to some extent. He feeds me a lot of information on the shape of the city, but he can be a bit," she searches for the right word, "capricious about what he shares with me. He doesn't always give me as many details as I want. He's getting better, but we're not fully bonded yet. Luckily I don't have to rely on him exclusively. I can feel the pressures and currents in the air and I can hear the sounds bounce against objects." She shrugs as if to say _it's nothing, really_.

"Could all ba-" his brow creases as he tries to remember the pronunciation of the supposedly alien word "balsti do that?"

"No. Only the wind riders. Blind girls born with hair and eyes the color of the clouds." She runs one gloved hand through the long, lose strands of her hair. She twists a lock around her finger, considering it's texture and shape but unable to perceive it's color. "Or, at least, I'm told that's its color." Her brow furrows in thought. "Is your hair white?" she asks him, a warm wind running it's fingers through his locks. She likes his hair.

"No," he answers, laughing as he smoothes his hair back into place from where the wind mussed it. "My hair's black." Then he reconsiders and adds, "Mostly."

"I like it. It's soft." He thinks that's a strange observation when he knows she's never touched it before. She grins, her eyes crinkling with humor. "And just long enough to play with." At her words, the wind blows gently over his head and making his hair flutter gently. She giggles and he wonders if, maybe, she's been touching him all along. She finger-combs her own tangles back behind one ear.

"Why do you wear your hair so long? It must be hard to take care of." He knows his own well-coifed look takes work to achieve, and his hair is only a few inches long. He can just imagine the trouble it would take to deal with her hair. Especially for a woman whose main power seems to revolve around the wind. He wonders if her powers include anything to untangle her remarkable tresses.

"It's a custom from back home. When a girl decided she was a woman, she would grow out her hair and wouldn't cut it again until she was married. Wives would always keep their hair short, but single women wore it long. I've lost so much... Keeping my hair long reminds me of where I came from." She shrugs and admits. "It's a silly thing, I know. And a lot of trouble. But... it's important to remember." She leans her head back and lets the wind play with her hair as it had with his a moment before.

Knowing nothing of his own birth culture, Metro Man frowns in regret. He wonders if there's anything he should be doing to honor his ancestors. He shakes off the momentary melancholy and instead asks, "So, your long hair means you've never been married?"

She straightens, her expression turning sad. "I've never really stayed long enough in one place to seriously consider it. Besides, relationships with ordinary humans are tricky. They're just so..." She pulls a face. "Fragile."

Metro Man thinks that sounds familiar. It's one of the reasons he'd never taken on the playboy ways of other rich young heroes. He always had to be so careful. One too-tight embrace or too enthusiastic thrust and he'd leave his lover injured and sobbing in pain. Once, during his senior year in high school, he'd broken his girlfriend's pelvis. Thankfully, it was only a slight fracture and the girl had healed up nicely under the care of the most expensive doctors in the city. It had all been hushed up, but he'd never forgotten. Though he won't admit it, he's actually terrified of being intimate with a human. He's had too many nightmares that began as erotic dreams only to end in him clutching a crushed and dying lover to his chest.

"Besides," she prattles on cheerfully, "most guys think I'm insane when I start talking to the sky. It puts a bit of a crimp in your relationship when your partner thinks you're cracked."

Metro Man isn't entirely sure she isn't, but he'd seen all sorts of strange powers in his capacity as Protector. He knows it's at least possible that she's telling the truth. The sky may be a thinking being. The idea is disconcerting, but that doesn't mean it isn't true. "Why don't you hide it? You could just keep your powers to yourself. Pretend to be a normal human."

"A normal _blind_ human? Spend my life on the ground, pretending I can't perceive my surroundings? All for the sake of a human _boyfriend_." She sneers on that last word.

"For the sake of a normal _life_," he clarifies. Normality holds an undeniable appeal for him because of it's unattainability. He is a super. He can never be normal. She could at least fake it.

"A normal life stopped being an option when my pod left the atmosphere of my homeworld," she states practically. "Nothing is normal on this barbaric planet. I'll settle for safe, if I can get it."

"Is that why you're here? Do you think Metro City is safe from the ASCA?"

"It might be," she confirms, "They're afraid of you so they don't often enter Metro. Certainly never with a combat team. Last I heard, they don't have any reliable counter-measures for defeating you and what they do have probably won't work any better than Megamind's attempts to kill you."

Clearly she's put a great deal of thought into the subject. She's not just passing through Metro City on a whim. She's has a plan. But just what is it? And how does it involve him? "You expect me to fight them for you?" he guesses. "That's why you're here?" His heart clenches to think she sees him as merely a Protector. An indestructible wall to hide behind. He does feel protective of her, but not only because of his duty as a Protector.

She considers her answer carefully. It is true, to an extent, but there's more to it than that. "No," she finally decides to answer, "I expect your presence to act as a deterrent. They won't want to come after me while you're here, and you shouldn't even have to lift a finger to protect me. Just the fact that this is your territory should shield me. They'll bide their time waiting for me to blow town instead."

The idea of her leaving is surprisingly unpleasant. "You're not planning to stay, then?"

"I don't know," she answers honestly, "I have several plans. Plans for staying, plans for leaving... I like to stay flexible. I can never predict exactly how events will unfold." She smiles up at him, "But I like Metro City. It's not a bad place to be. It has a lovely sky." She frowns, "Though I may have to move to a different apartment if that Mr. Stuart doesn't learn some manners."

That makes Metro Man laugh, remembering the desperation of Lady Doppler in her human-guise trying in vain to get away from her would-be suitor without revealing her powers. If she'd been a powerless human woman, he might have been worried for her safety from the overly insistent young man. But he had no doubt that she could hold her own against any mere human and wouldn't put up with any harassment. It's only her ability to keep her temper that worries him.

Their conversation lapses as they approach an intersection. She steps off the curb without breaking stride, only to have the hero pull her back by the arm.

"What?" she asks, double-checking with the wind that there's no traffic coming. It's clear.

"Wait for the light," he tells her.

Since light is precisely what she _can't_ perceive, she disregards his instruction. Instead, she points out the salient fact that, "There's no one coming."

"It doesn't matter, if you're walking, you wait for the light." It's the law and it's his job to make sure it's obeyed.

"All right," she answers, "then I won't walk." The wind intensifies around her, lifting her off her feet and floating her a few inches above the pavement and into the street. Metro Man scowls at her, but she only laughs, letting the wind carry her easily to the opposite curb. "Are you coming?" she asks, once again standing on her feet.

He floats across the intersection, not entirely happy with skirting jay-walking laws. "Why are we walking, anyway?" he asks, eager to change the subject. He usually flies and wonders, since she can do the same, why she isn't.

"I've been flying all afternoon. It's worn me out. It takes a lot of concentration to direct an untamed sky to carry me, much less a bunch of tourists he doesn't know. Better to give us both a break than to push it and lose control." Besides, it feels good to stretch her legs and being seen on the ground, arm in arm with the city's hero, can only help her reputation. Who would suspect a close friend of Metro Man's to be anything but a law-abiding citizen? Every little bit might help.

He accepts that explanation, knowing that every super's powers are different and she'd be the authority on how hers work. Up ahead the bank is clearly visible in the distance. Their walk won't last much longer. He's determined to learn more about her in the time he has. "So, uh... You speak Japanese?" he asks, recalling his surprise at hearing the foreign language spill from her lips when she'd spoken to the tourists.

"I speak many languages," she answers. She's good at languages. "I've lived all over this planet."

"That must be interesting. To travel all the time." Though Wayne has traveled to Canada and Europe and a few exotic locations south of the border, it isn't something he can devote much time to and he always feels guilty whenever he's away from his city for long. He's never been away long enough to need to learn language of another country.

"It's exhausting," she complains, "And, after awhile, every new place seems the same. The only thing that changes is the sky."

That was the opposite of his experience. He found that the buildings, terrain, and people are a little different everywhere while he'd never noticed much difference in the sky. "I thought the sky was pretty much the same everywhere."

"Oh, no," she contradicts him cheerfully, "Every sky is different. In some places, the sky is a huge, lumbering brute. In others he's a quick, biting thing without much power. Some of them are swift to obey and eager to please me. Others are rebellious and resent my control. Some are unstable and cruel. I knew a sky in Venezuela, right at the end of the Catatumbo River where it meets Lake Maracaibo, full of such rage that he throws lightning fits all night for almost half the year. Heavens, do I love a good lightning storm! The heat and the _tingling_..." She hugs herself and shudders happily at the recollection. Then she holds out one hand, index finger extended. "On the other hand, there's one in South Africa so serene that I couldn't wake him at all and he nearly pulled me down with him into his sleep when I tried. The skies over the seashore are usually the strongest." She points downhill towards where the city slopes towards the lake. "It's the elevation, not just the water. Mountain skies are cool and gentle except in the winter. Then they dance with snow and ice." She spins herself, head thrown back and eyes closed. Then she takes his arm at the elbow and resumes her path along the sidewalk. "Arctic skies are unforgiving and will only grudgingly listen to me and usually won't obey. But those are only generalities. I've known mountain skies that rage and arctic skies that just want to play. There's a place in Australia where the sky likes to rain fish." She laughs, shaking her head, "He thinks it's hilarious."

The wind suddenly blows around her, hissing and buffeting her hair around her. "And you, my Metro City Sky," she calls into the air, "You are _jealous_!" she laughs, oblivious to the stares of the pedestrians on the sidewalks around them. She stumbles slightly as a gust pushes her roughly sideways. Metro Man reaches out to steady her before she falls, glancing nervously around him at the invisible air. "Oh, none of that, my pet or I won't play with you," she scolds the wind. The air stills around her for a moment, then licks gently at her neck and blows its hot breath in her ear. "Oh, of course I forgive you," she assures the wind, just as if it had spoken to her. It apparently responds by snatching her from Metro Man's supporting arm and spinning her joyously around before sitting her gently onto her feet again. She smiles indulgently before returning her attention to Metro Man. In a quieter voice, she confides in him that, "I'm never sure what the sky will be like when I move somewhere new. This sky is one of my favorites. I think he loves me already." She closes her eyes in pleasure as the wind twists around her, "He's so excited to be conscious that he keeps chattering on about every little thing. He notices _everything, _though not always what I'm interested in." She stops and cocks her head to one side. "Did you know that there's a little robot hiding in that tree?" she asks out of the blue, pointing into the canopy of a large dogwood planted in a open spot in the sidewalk.

Metro Man glances up into the indicated branches and easily spots the hidden brainbot watching them passively from its perch. "That's just one of Megamind's brainbots. It won't hurt you."

"The city is absolutely _infested_ with them. They're everywhere," she bemoans. While the little things are well hidden from most citizens, her sky touches the entire city. Little is hidden from him if he chooses to look and for the moment the little cyborgs have peaked his interest. "What are they doing, anyway? I thought Megamind was retired."

"He is, but I asked him to leave the brainbots out."

"Why?"

"They keep an eye out for trouble and call me if I need to handle something."

"You two are working together now?" That idea worries her and she frowns. She is confident in her ability to eventually wrap this obviously lonely hero around her little finger, but the viln would be a different matter. He hadn't won his position as supervillain by being stupid and such a vocation breeds suspicion. He'll see through her manipulations easily if she tries to snag him. Not that there is any hope of doing so now, of course. It's easier to turn a hurricane than to catch a mated viln's eye.

She had counted on Megamind having bowed out of the spotlight. He was supposed to have retreated to live a private life of marital bliss and left the city to his rival. She knows the Alliance of Evil has de-listed him and the Hero's Consortium has taken him off their list of the Top 10 Most wanted Fugitives. All her sources agreed with what had been printed in the newspaper: that he planned to become a businessman and leave the battles of good and evil to someone else. There was no reason to expect he'd do anything else. It was what most villains did if they ever managed to quit the game with their freedom and sanity intact. Especially those whose talents ran towards invention and the sciences.

"You could say that, I guess. I'm trying to convince him to become a Protector. He hasn't agreed yet, but Roxy likes the idea. I think she'll talk him into it."

Even worse! The most intelligent humanoid being on the planet acting as Protector in this city? That would complicate things. She's glad that she has enough savings at the moment to last several months. She won't need to resort to anything as obvious as outright theft to support herself for awhile. Rent, even on her tiny apartment, isn't cheap and the last thing she needs is for one of those horrid little machines to catch sight of her lifting someone's wallet or sneaking into the back door of a jewelry store past midnight. If the two alien men team up effectively, she will have to curtail her criminal activities for the duration of her stay. Heavens, she might even have to find a proper job! Sky-diving and busking don't bring in much money. Will she be forced to become an ordinary, law-abiding citizen?

She frowns in irritation. It's not that she has anything particularly against obeying the law and being a solid citizen, but she's always found life much easier when she simply takes what she needs rather than arranging employment to earn it lawfully. After all, there are only so many jobs an ordinary blind woman can take without arousing suspicion (most of them low-paying) and she prefers not to hire herself out as a super under anyone's terms but her own.

Still, it doesn't sound like a done deal yet. Megamind was a villain, even if he's retired now. That's not the sort of thing people forget. "The city is just going to _accept_ him as their Protector? I find that hard to believe," she declares. She's been run out of town for far less serious crimes than what she knows Megamind used to do on an almost weekly basis.

He shrugs and declares matter-of-factly, "If I say I want Megamind to help me protect the city, the citizens will make it happen."

They just do whatever he says? No questions asked? That doesn't sound right. Why would they...? A sinister thought sends a panicked chill down her spine and she stops dead in her tracks. "You have mind control powers," she realizes, backing away from him slowly. She'd never heard those powers ascribed to the hero before and they weren't included in what her data sphere told her of glaupunks, but that didn't mean he doesn't have them. Half his known powers are psionic, it wouldn't be unbelievable that he might have further mental powers than what he'd allowed the public to know about. She focuses on her mental barriers, making certain that the habitual walls she keeps around her thoughts are intact and as strong as she can make them. She considers her surroundings, plotting out her best escape routes. Not that they'll be of any use against a man with super speed and x-ray vision. Still, she won't let another mind leech take her without a fight. She does have one trick up her sleeve that should work even on him, but these are not the ideal circumstances to try it. If she can start it before he takes control of her mind there's a chance the sky will be able maintain it without her direction. Especially if he doesn't realize that their range is limited. Maybe she can manufacture a distraction. Her breathing quickens as her body's version of adrenalin floods her system, preparing her for action. The sky responds to her agitation with a sudden gust that strengthens into a steady wind wrapping around her, preparing to fly her to safety. Random citizens pathetically shield their heads with their arms as they flee into surrounding buildings to escape the unnatural weather whose source is clearly standing in front of their hero.

"No!" Metro Man answers, recognizing the rising panic in her eyes and kicking himself for not explaining better. "It's not like that. I don't have mind control powers." He holds his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture, trying to calm her, "Really. I don't." He smiles at her with his most disarming expression, which makes him incongruously resemble a hopeful puppy.

Warily, she stops herself from leaping into the air, though still nervous and ready to bolt if necessary. Thunder rolls across the thickening clouds. The sky is not pleased with this threat to his mistress. _Not yet, _she cautions her pet silently. She'd sensed no deceit in the hero's assurances, but that isn't completely reassuring. She knows that she isn't very good at detecting lies. Her blindness makes it nearly impossible to detect eye movement and she doesn't get much detail from a person's facial expression. Not without clicking at them, anyway. But she didn't notice any tells in his gestures or his breathing and had felt no pressure on her mental shields. Despite it all, she _wants_ to believe him. "Then why do they obey you? Do you have some sort of leverage over the city's officials?" Extortion isn't heroic, but he wouldn't be the first Protector she'd met who counted that among his powers. It would be better than him being a mind-controller, at least.

"What? Oh, you mean blackmail! No! I'm a hero. I wouldn't stoop to that level. The city just, kind of does what I say because they want to."

"Why would they want to do that?" She inches away slowly, matching his pace as he tries to close the distance between them without appearing threatening. The wind twitches around her, ready to pick her up at the slightest signal.

"Because I'm Metro Man," he answers, as if that's enough.

Her cocked eyebrow and one more backwards step indicates silently that it is _not_ enough.

"The city likes me," he elaborates, "Everyone does. Well," he reconsiders, "All the humans like me, anyway. Megamind's never really liked me all that much."

It does seem to be true. All of Metro City seems to be in awe of their protector. It's disconcerting, now that she thinks of it, and she wonders why she hadn't suspected mind-control before. But if Megamind didn't like him, maybe it was, "Because you can't control viln minds?" she guesses. She knows some supers and aliens are naturally resistant to psionic influence and it's quite possible that viln have that trait.

He sighs, "I can't control _anyone's_ mind. I swear." He holds up his right hand with three fingers up and one down, "Scouts honor."

Despite it all, she can't help her amusement at the thought of this giant man as a boy scout. It's enough to make her stop retreating. For a moment. "Then why does this city like you?"

"I'm very likable?"

This wins him a sarcastic sneer and another step away, her patience wearing thin. The wind flows around her and she turns away, bending her legs in preparation...

Before she can leap he interrupts her, "Okay, okay. Don't leave." Too late as she springs, but his hand shoots out, snatching her wrist and holding her. "Please. The truth is that I've worked really hard on my image to guarantee that people like me."

"Why?" she asks, twisting in his firm but gentle grip, trying to get loose. She reaches fingers, sparking with electricity, towards his hand but it has no effect. The wind batters against him ineffectively, outraged but unable to pull her away. Lightning flashes twice in the dark clouds, the third time striking the pavement five feet behind the hero, causing a delivery van to swerve and narrowly miss running onto the opposite sidewalk. He doesn't even flinch.

"It's better than everyone running in terror and insisting that the government do something about me. So, I help the weak, bring the guilty to justice, and stand between them and the forces of evil. I can even walk on water for them."

Sudden insight strikes her. "You've made them worship you," she says. It's a statement, not a question. The wind falls suddenly still around her and she stops struggling.

"Sort of," he shrugs, cautiously releasing her wrist. "I may have overdone it, actually. I've had to discourage several churches from teaching that I'm Jesus Christ returned. It's starting to get kind of annoying." He scratches the back of his neck nervously as she rubs at her arm. He hopes he hadn't hurt her.

A slow smile spreads across her face. Perhaps all is not lost after all. That is just the type of power she needs. "You control Metro City," she observes as the sky brightens.

"Well, not _officially..._" he hedges, "...But...Yeah. Sort of. Well, me and Megamind, anyway."

She nods to herself. It's what she'd originally hoped for, all according to plan. If he's already basically the king in this city, then half her job is done. All she has to do is insinuate herself into his life until she's queen beside him. But she needs to keep on his good side if she wants to use him later. Megamind's good side too. She might be able to make a stand here indefinitely if they're at her back. Will her enemies risk attacking her here? In this city with the hero, the ex-villain, and the sky as her allies, she has a chance of crushing them once and for all. She shies at the idea of trusting anyone besides the sky with her safety, but she is so tired of running. And, really, she could choose worse for companions than this handsome Hercules of a man. She's beginning to think that she might even find she enjoys his company. The sky continues to lighten at an unnatural pace, the cloud once again mere fluffy puffs in the cool blue.

Mulling over these thought, Lady Doppler walks a few yards alone before stepping through the revolving door of the bank building. Her senses immediately dull slightly as the sealed door blocks much of the outside air, muffling the information she receives from her sky bond. Luckily, the marble-clad interior reflects sound waves excellently, enhancing her echo-location ability. It's one of things she appreciates about this branch location. That and, of course, the institution's connections with certain international banking networks. Metro Man steps into the building after her, his large form barely fitting inside the door partition. Everyone in the room turns curiously towards the costumed supers.

Lady Doppler ignores them. Her heels tap loudly on the hard floor as she crosses the lobby to step into line to wait her turn for a teller. Metro Man stands near the door. Without Lady Doppler's distracting presence, the stares and whispers make him uncomfortable. He reconsiders the wisdom of not waiting outside. The bank manager steps over to him and asks nervously if there's anything wrong, suspecting that the hero is there because of a tip about a planned robbery. This isn't an unrealistic expectation, since this bank is usually robbed several times a year. Usually by Megamind, who has a distressing knack for executing his hold-ups during times when Metro Man is busy rescuing people elsewhere in the city.

"No, nothing's wrong," he answers the smaller man, "I'm just keeping Whirlwind company while she runs errands."

"Supers run errands?" the banker asks, trying to envision either of the spandex-clad supers pushing a shopping cart through a grocery store.

"Apparently," Metro Man answers, as mystified by it as the banker is. He watches as his white-haired companion makes it to the head of the line, not using her celebrity status to cut ahead, and hands her check and a plastic card to the lady on the other side of the counter. They exchange words and the teller flips the check over and shows her blind customer where to sign. That done, the woman slides the card through a slot on her keyboard and taps a few keys. The teller examines the check and carefully counts out several hundred dollars in crisp, new bills. Lady Doppler runs the currency under a small, electronic reader to verify their denominations. Satisfied, she folds each bill individually, the hundreds in one pattern and the twenties in another, and tucks everything into her pockets before returning to her muscle-bound friend.

"Now, see?" she asks teasingly as she hugs one huge bicep, "I didn't rob it even a little." The bank manager blanches, his mouth gaping open, and she giggles at his reaction. "I did steal a sucker, though." She brandishes her prize playfully in the hero's face, then pulls it back as if he'd reached for it, "None for you. Customers only." She promptly removes the wrapper, and pops it into her mouth. "Mmmm..." she hums as the first rush of cherry flavor hits her tongue. "Come on, big guy," she says around her candy, her words slurring slightly, "We're making the humans nervous. Time to blow." Without waiting for his response, she releases his arm and walks back out the door. Behind her, Metro Man scoops the abandoned candy wrapper from the floor and hands it to the gaping manager, shrugs apologetically for his companion's littering, and obediently follows her out onto the sidewalk.

"Why'd you go to the bank dressed as a super? I never run errands as Metro Man."

"You don't have a secret identity to protect, Mr. Scott. I still do. The check was made out to Without a Chute Skydiving, which is officially owned by Whirlwind. So, Whirlwind has to take care of the banking. Otherwise I'll blow my cover."

"How did you even _get_ a bank account for the name Whirlwind? That's just a made-up alias."

"Ah, sorry Protector. I can't tell you all my secrets. I might incriminate myself and then where would we be?" She teases. While the pair were inside, a man with a guitar had set up outside on the sidewalk and is now playing folk songs for anyone willing to listen. She knows the bank will soon send someone out to shoo him away from the entryway. People often think of buskers as little more than bums begging on the street. She has learned to respect them, however and leans against the low wall of a planter box as he plays _The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald_ for anyone wandering by. When he moves on to _Whiskey in the Jar_, Lady Doppler flips her lollipop stick into a nearby trash can and joins him in the chorus. Soon a small crowd has gathered around the guitarist and the supers, most of them happily singing along to the parts they know. Metro Man doesn't sing, but he smiles as he watches her sing with such joy. He completely fails to notice the teenage girl picking pockets in the crowd around him. When the guitarist finishes, Whirlwind drops a dollar into his case. She isn't so strapped that she can't afford to pay an honest musician, especially when her generosity has witnesses. She takes Metro Man's arm and pulls him away down the sidewalk. "I'd have liked to stay longer, but we attract too much attention. We'd steal his stage if we'd stayed too long. It wouldn't be fair to him." Metro Man is impressed by her thoughtfulness.

They walk towards the interior of the city with no particular destination as far as the hero knows. "So, have you decided whether I'm a con or not?" she asks, deciding to broach the subject herself to get it out of the way.

He hesitates before answering, "I'm hoping you're not. Megamind says that your story sounds right, but you might have heard it from one of the men that raised him. He says we need a DNA sample to know for sure." He looks at her apologetically.

She nods. "I expected as much," she agrees reasonably, much to the hero's surprise. "You don't become a supervillain by trusting strangers. And he's right. I could just be manipulating you." She is, actually. But her heritage happens to be true. She combs her gloved fingers through her long white hair a few times, snagging several strands and pulling them free. She coils them neatly around her palm and hands them over. "If only a lock of hair could solve _all_ my problems," she muses wistfully.

Accepting the hair, he thinks quickly. What to do with it? Working with the police for so many years, he'd picked up a few things and knows that simply sticking the strands into his pocket might contaminate the sample. "Just a second," he tells her before streaking away at super-speed to tuck the hair away in a safe place back at his underground sanctuary until he can give it to Megamind for testing. Five seconds later, he's back, standing next to her on the sidewalk as if he'd never left. Lady Doppler has her head tilted to one side, her expression puzzled, "What?" he asks.

"I haven't really paid much attention to your super speed before, but I caught it that time. You sliced right through the air from here out to the edge of the city," she points directly toward his secret hide-away, "and back again."

His eyes widen in surprise. "You tracked me?" he asks. He'd never considered the possibility of anyone tracking him while he used super-speed. He simply moves too fast for the human eye to follow. The most anyone's ever reported seeing is a bit of a white streak if he happened to cross their field of vision or contrails if he was high in the sky. But, of course, her senses work differently than anyone else's.

"Yes," she confirms. The transonic air movements from his passage left a wake that persisted for several seconds. Though fleeting, it was as good as a roadmap for someone with her abilities. "You flew to a building out by the lakeshore. Is that where you live? It isn't very big." She pauses, her brow furrowed. She asks her sky to concentrate on the building and it feeds her its sensations, but they aren't very clear. She shakes her head in frustration, "It's just on the edge of our range. We can barely sense it..."

He looks like a deer in the headlights, a strange expression for such a powerful man. She tracked him to his home. Unsure what to say, he levitates up to a ledge on the second floor of the nearest office building, just above a cellular phone shop. He pats the space beside him, indicating she should join him. The wind curls around her and lifts her off her feet, sailing her up to perch next to him. Random citizens glance at the two curiously as they walk past. The silence stretches and he takes her gloved hand in his own. She waits patiently for him to say something. He finally responds, "I-don't tell people where I live. Most people assume I live at Scott Manor, but that's my parents' home. Only a few people know about the schoolhouse. It's sort of my sanctuary. Please- keep it to yourself."

She grins, surprised at her luck. She wasn't even looking for that information and it landed right in her lap. Knowing where the glaupunk sleeps might be useful someday. She smiles at him and pats his arm, "Your secret is safe with me," she soothes, unsure herself if she's telling the truth or not.

"Speaking of secrets," he begins in a low voice just above a whisper, "I sent an inquiry to the Hero's Consortium about the ASCA. You're not the only one who's reported natural rights violations with them."

Aware of the people merely a story below them, she speaks softly as well. "But I'm the only one who hasn't mysteriously disappeared yet, aren't I?"

"How did you know?" he asked, startled that she already knew this disturbing fact.

"Standard ASCA procedure. They have entire teams dedicated to tracking and retrieving their own rogues. No one escapes."

"You did," he points out.

"No, I didn't," she contradicts emphatically, "I was rescued. I'd be _dead_ if that sky hadn't acted on his own to save me. The heavens are all that's kept me safe, so far." She's shaking, her voice still low, "I'm lucky that the ASCA never really understood my abilities. If they believed that the wind could become sentient, that he would obey me, just think what a weapon they could have!"

"You're not a weapon."

"I can be."

"You're not," he argues, the point very important to him. He'd personally testified in court many times on this subject, since it always seems that there's someone who wants to reduce supers to no more than the sum of their powers, ignoring their natural rights as people. Though there are various laws requiring certain types of supers to register their powers with the government, they are still recognized by the UN and most nations on the planet as people with the same rights as their fellow citizens. "You're a person with an extraordinary ability. A weapon's different. A weapon's_-"_

"Don't patronize me, Metro. I'm not a schoolchild in need of a civics lesson. I _know_ I'm not a weapon. But I _can_ be one. If the ASCA captures me they'll either kill me or they'll sic another psy on me. If they manage to control me, a weapon is _exactly_ what I'll become. It's _all_ I'll become. That's what they _do_. They turn aliens and supers into weapons. And you do _not_ want me in their hands."

Fair point. He shudders to think of the destruction she could cause if she chose, or was compelled, to turn her powers to evil. "What if you could do something to stop them?"

"I can. I just have to stay the hell out of their reach." It's what she's done for years. Until she has the advantage and can crush them once and for all, it's her only option.

"What if you could do something to stop them from making _anyone_ into a weapon ever again?" he presses.

She shakes her head negatively. It's something she'd spent years thinking about. For the moment, is isn't possible. "The organization is too scattered. The bigwigs are never on-site. The board meetings are held in secret, often by teleconference. I could destroy _all_ their facilities and they'd just rebuild. To cut off the head I'd have to get enough of them all in one place and then hit them fas-"

"Woah, slow down there," he interrupts. "I prefer plans involving a little more justice and a little less assassination."

"Justice and assassination are not mutually exclusive," she answers entirely reasonably.

"Maybe you really _shouldn't_ talk to me without counsel," he muses. "What I was _actually_ going to ask was if you'd be willing to testify against them?"

She purses her lips speculatively. "Would that put them all in one place?"

"No assassinations!"

She crosses her arms over her chest and insists, "But that's the only way to stop them permanently."

He scrubs one hand over his face in frustration. "I'm a Protector. I can't condone murder."

"It's not murder, it's pre-emptive self-defense."

He throws his hands into the air and rolls his eyes to the cheery blue sky. "You can't defend yourself pre-emptively!"

"Says the American!"

"Lady..." he rubs his eyes and sighs. "If you testify at trial, everyone will know what they did. There will be no denying their guilt and they will be held accountable."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure. Will they be fined? I'm sure their wrists will sting."

"These are serious charges with mandatory prison sentences."

"_If_ they're convicted."

"They will be."

"You're sure of that?"

"As long as what you told me is true, we'll get them." He hopes she's telling the truth, otherwise he's gone way out on a limb for her for nothing.

"But, there's no _evidence_. It's my word against theirs and they'll do everything they can to discredit me." And, with her history, it would be insane to believe her based merely on her word.

"There are ways to verify witness testimony. The consortium has an independent truth-reader under contract. He can certify your story." Truth-readers aren't often used in criminal trials because of the astronomical expense of their services, but the Consortium views the threat posed by the ASCA to be serious enough to justify the price.

The clouds begin to darken again, the sky nearly overcast. The local TV weathermen are having apoplectic fits about today's unnatural weather. "Oh! That's all I need, more psychics invading my head." No, she will _not_ allow another psy to rummage around in her memories to drag out skeletons better left buried.

"He's a professional. He's gone through extensive training and certification. He won't abuse his authority. He'll only be there to verify that you're telling the truth."

"I killed my first mutant in the arena when I was six. I killed Grek'ulzir. My _skies_ have killed people, both at my direction and not. If I testify, I'll end up facing murder charges. None of it was," she's quick to add, "I only ever defended myself or acted under compulsion, but there's so much blood on my hands... Something will stick and they'll lock me away." She wraps her arms around herself, pulling her knees to her chest. "I can't let them lock me away. Not again. Not ever again. I'll go insane." She rocks forward and back, her eyes closed and her hair falling into her face.

She looks so small and scared, Metro Man can't help but want to make everything better. He slides closer to her and wraps his massive arm around her shoulders. She flinches at the contact, but then relaxes and leans into the side-hug. She allows him to comfort her. He pushes her hair back behind one ear, revealing her white eyes tinged with red. She isn't crying, but the sky is. A light misting rain falls from the heavens. His fingers linger near her face, stroking her jaw tenderly. Eventually he tells her, "I can see that you're granted immunity for your testimony."

She thinks about that. Prosecution for her crimes is one thing that's always kept her wary of authority. Though she'd once been an innocent victim, those times are long past. She'd spent her entire adulthood running roughshod over the law, her only concern her own freedom and safety. "International immunity?" she asks. It's an important point. So many of her crimes and homicides have occurred outside the United States. She can't rely merely on U.S. law to protect her.

He nods, "The ASCA will be tried by the U.N. International Court. So, yes. They'd be able to guarantee you that."

"Where would the trial be held?"

"Usually these things are done in the Hague."

She shakes her head, pulling away from him. This isn't going to work. "If I leave Metro, I'll lose this skybond. I've never been to the Hague. I'll have to start over with an untested, newly awakened sky. I'll be too vulnerable to attack. If we do it, the trial has to be here. In this city."

"I don't think that the judge will grant a change of venue."

"That's the only circumstances I'll agree to it. Nothing else will be safe for me," she insists emphatically.

"They might compel you to come anyway." He warns.

"Yes, I'm sure their _court orders_ will force my hand." She sneers.

"I might be engaged to bring you into custody," he tells her reluctantly.

"I'll have to fight you if you do." She doesn't like the idea of fighting him.

"I'm invulnerable," he points out sadly, "I'll win."

"You're indestructible, not invulnerable. There is a difference."

That surprises him. "You think you can defeat me?"

"I spent my childhood training to be a ASCA mercenary. I _know _I can defeat you." In fact, she'd been trained specifically to defeat him. Her powers are one of the few on the planet with a reasonable chance of killing him. It's one of the reasons the ASCA had assigned Grek'ulzir to her facility when she was in their custody. They wanted to be sure of their control of her. They knew some of what she could do, even then.

"How?" He doesn't believe her. No one has ever been able to pose a serious threat to him in his entire life.

"Oh, yes. Let me tell you so you'll be ready for it. I don't think so." Her trick is only likely to work under very specific circumstances, and only if he's caught off-guard. "I like you, Mr. Scott. But I won't take that risk."

"You like me?"

His sudden change in topic derails her train of thought for a moment. Flustered for the first time today, she stutters, "Well I- Yes. Yes, I suppose I do." She's surprised to find that it's the truth. She does like the big guy more than she should. She sincerely hopes that she won't have to kill him. Regaining her composer, she hedges, "A bit."

He beams at her, "I like you too, Lady." The odd name is beginning to feel more comfortable on his tongue and he leans in towards her, capturing her mouth with his. He ignores the gasps of the crowd and clicking of cell phone cameras. Let them look, he thinks recklessly. He's a superhero. Who are they to judge him?

She pulls away from him suddenly, "What is that _smell_?"

Surprised, Metro Man ducks his head and takes a quick whiff near his armpit. "I'm sorry, do I need a shower?"

"Not you," she hisses. She leans away and opens her mouth and breathes in slowly, tasting the air as it passes over her tongue. "I smelled smoke, but it's gone now."

Metro Man looks around, "Is there a fire? No one's called for me."

"Not that kind of smoke," she answers. "It's familiar, from a few days ago... but where was it coming from?" Abruptly, she pushes off the ledge and falls straight down, without bothering to use the wind to cushion her fall. Instead, she lands on her feet, bending her knees a bit upon landing. Metro Man is impressed. Most humans without enhanced toughness would not have made that drop uninjured. Particularly while wearing heels. She tastes the air again as she turns slowly, eventually addressing someone hidden from Metro Man's view by an awning. "It's you, child. You reek of the smoke man. I saw you before. At the bank. You've been following us."

In order to see who she's talking to, Metro Man floats outwards from the building, lowering himself to the ground. Lady Doppler is standing on the sidewalk in front of the store window displaying the latest smartphones available inside. No one is within thirty feet of her, though there's no shortage of gawkers watching and taking pictures from what they deem to be a safe distance. "Who are you talking to?" he asks.

"The girl, of course. Who else is there?" The girl in question edges away from the inexplicably perceptive super, her soft-soled shoes making her footsteps completely silent. She licks her lips nervously and grips her backpack tighter. She's clearly considering bolting.

"There's no one there, Lady."

"You don't see-Of course," she addresses the empty sidewalk in front of her, "You're a vanisher, aren't you?"

And that does it. The girl runs, brushing past the oblivious hero as she sprints into the distance, trusting her escape to her invisibility.

Metro Man knows the term vanisher. He engages his super hearing, but whatever noise the alleged super is making has already merged with the noises of the crowd and he can't pick them out. Of course, that assumes that there'd been someone there in the first place. He wonders, not for the first time today, if his companion is crazy. Then he corrects himself. _Mentally ill_ is a kinder term. But, no. He'd felt something move his cape as it went past. Unless that was just her manipulating the wind...?

Beside him, Whirlwind launches into the air with a sudden gust and rises until she is even with the tenth floor. Knowing there's nothing to be gained by staying on the ground, he follows her up. Soon, away from the crowd and city noises, he detects a heartbeat that doesn't correspond to a visible person. "I didn't know we had a vanisher in Metro City," he says. He's more than a little annoyed by that fact. It's his job to know the criminal underworld of his city, particularly those with uncanny abilities.

Whirlwind doesn't answer, her attention on the girl. She floats in close and clicks her tongue right in the unseen girl's face before asking, "Who are you?" and continues to click, head cocked to one side.

The girl presses her lips tight together in a thin line and refuses to answer.

"Well, let's find out then," she suggests, cheerfully undaunted by the lack of cooperation. With a lightning-quick lunge, Whirlwind divests her of her bag, which shimmers into visibility once outside of the girl's immediate vicinity.

Knowing it's useless to remain hidden any longer, the girl snaps into visibility with an indignant protest, "Give that back! It's mine!" She flails towards Whirlwind, but the wind holds her in place as effectively as ropes or chains. She snarls in frustration. Her eyes find Metro Man, sedately rising to the height of the two females with a bemused look on his face. "Metro Man!" the girl calls, "She jus' _stole_ my backpack! You can't let her do that. It's mine. Help me!"

"You're correct, young citizen," he agrees in heroic tones with his fisted hands resting on his hips, "Whirlwind," he addresses his companion with his chest thrown out and his cape flapping behind him, "I can't condone you taking property that does not belong to you."

Annoyed, she concedes, "Oh, fine. _You_ look in here then," she slaps the bag into the hero's hands with disgust. "I was going to give it to you anyway. I can't read anything unless in Braille." That isn't entirely true, thanks to her little OCR reader, but it's always a bit cumbersome to use.

"Oh, no, fair Lady. I can't search this young citizen's personal property without reasonable suspicion." The girl smirks in triumph, sure that the hero's do-goody nature will force him to return the bag and escort her to the ground safely.

Metro Man hovers there, not looking in the bag he's holding, but not returning it either. Instead, he's watching Whirlwind expectantly. When she doesn't respond with her line immediately, he clears his throat to prompt her. "That's the law. I need _reasonable suspicion_," he elaborates.

Whirlwind scowls briefly, then a slow, sly smile slides across her lips. "Of course. I wouldn't want you to break the law, Protector. But, you see, the girl is a... pickpocket." The girl gasps indignantly. "I _witnessed_ her working that crowd outside the bank and I believe there's stolen property in there." The story has the added benefit of being true. The lady had noticed the girl working the crowd around the busker earlier. She hadn't turned the girl in because she didn't make a habit of ratting out people for no reason. Better to save it for when she has a reason. Like now.

"Well, a witness' accusation of criminal activity. _That_ would constitute reasonable suspicion," the hero observes with an approving smile.

"Indeed," agrees his companion with a triumphant grin.

"You bitch!" shouts the restrained girl, understanding that she'd been played.

"Miss," objects Metro Man reasonably, "please refrain from using profanities." He flips open the girl's bag and pokes around. "I see what you mean, Whirlwind." He pulls out a man's billfold and opens it to check the I.D. The picture on the enclosed driver's license doesn't belong to the girl unless she has some way to appear as a 43-year-old black man. Nor does the I.D. in the second or third wallet he finds in her purse. The fourth, however, is a woman's wallet. This one does have an I.D. with a photo that matches the girl's face. Actually, it has several I.D.s with her face. Funny, though. None of the cards seem to agree on her name. He drops the wallets back in the purse and fishes out several crumpled receipts that he unfolds and examines. "You buy a lot of cold medicine," he observes.

"I got allergies," she claims, though she has no illusions the hero will believe her lie. Indeed, he's well-trained in detecting the tell-tale signs of a liar and she's practically glowing with insincerity.

"And I suppose this is your medication?" he asks, holding up a tiny Ziplock bag a third full of a light purplish powder. The Protector, who happens to be impervious to all known substances, dips his little finger into the bag and tastes the residue that clings to his glove. He recognizes it. "This is one of Psycho Delic's recipes," he says.

"Who's Psycho Delic?" Lady Doppler asks.

"He's the local drug lord and pimp. He runs the Doom Syndicate," he answers, breaking character from his heroic persona as he explains.

"Doom Syn... That's the city's supervillain ring, right? I thought Megamind ran that."

"No, the Syndicate was always a completely separate operation from Megamind. Not that they didn't team-up on occasion, but they mostly stayed out of each other's way."

"That explains the smoke. She reeks of that nasty little smoke man who tried to steal my pay when I was busking last week."

"You busk?" the hero's inner performer perks up at that.

"It's a believable occupation for a blind woman," she points out defensively.

"Never said it wasn't." He can't help asking, "What sort of show do you put on?"

"Can we focus here?"

"Right, of course."

Lady Doppler drifts over to the suspended girl. "Tell me, spy, how close were you listening to the conversation of you betters?"

"Is that supposed to mean you, freak?" Psycho's girl flinches away. "How are you better'n me?"

"How are we _not_? What did you hear?"

"I didn't hear nothin'. I was jus' walkin' down a public sidewalk, mindin' my own business. If you wanted privacy, you should'uv gone for a flight. Now, piss off and let me down! Protector, I demand you help me down from here!"

"I'm sorry, Miss," he answers in heroic tones, "I'm afraid, you're not going anywhere right now. I have probable cause to arrest you."

"Then do it, and get it over with," she demands.

"If you weren't spying, why were you following us?" Lady Doppler asks, ignoring the hero doing his hero thing.

"I ain't tellin' ya shit while he's here."

Whirlwind blinks. "So, you DO have something to tell me?"

"Maybe," she admits.

"Something involving the smokeman?"

The girl crosses her arms over her chest and raises her chin, not saying anything more within earshot of the hero.

So, there is a message, but not something suitable for heroic ears. She considers ignoring it. Any message from that shriveled little smoker is unlikely to be of real interest. In fact, she's sure she already knows what it is. Every city of any size has a crime ring, otherwise there'd be no need for Protectors. Eventually, they come to her with an offer that's as often a trap as an opportunity. She groans, realizing that ignoring the messenger will only delay the inevitable. Best to get it out of the way now. Besides, what can this little vanisher possibly do to her? "Protector," Whirlwind rolls onto her side, and wafts over to the big man's side. She crosses both forearms over his left deltoid, rests her chin on top, and turns her face up towards him. "Would you be a dear and give us girls a minute?"

"I have to arrest her," he objects in a deep baritone pitched for her ears rather than the crowd or the pickpocket.

She tips her head to the side just a bit and leans in. "And you can do that just as well five minutes from now as you can now. I won't stop you." Her finger twines into his hair, just behind his ear.

He hesitates.

"Please, Wayne?" she begs prettily. "I think she's here to offer an alliance or a partnership or something with the smokeman, and she won't say with you hovering there."

"You _want_ to work with Psycho?"

"Of course not, he's disgusting." She curls her mouth into a delicate sneer. "But if I don't let her deliver her message he'll just send someone else. And he might be the sort to punish incompetence. I don't really want him to hurt the girl. I know what it's like to be controlled by someone more powerful than you are. Just let her deliver her message and I'll refuse and then you can haul her off to juvie." She pouts, "It's important."

"You won't hurt her?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Of course not. She's only a messenger. It wouldn't accomplish anything."

Metro Man is pleased to hear her voice such concern for a not-so-innocent citizen. Surely a true villainess would care nothing for the girl's well-being. "Fine. I'll just be over here... watching for wrong-doers. In this direction. Away from you."

The females watch the hero drift away into the misty rain, whistling off-key to himself. Lady Doppler thinks that's over-doing it a bit, but the girl visibly relaxes at the show.

"Now, what do you have to tell me?" she asks the girl.

The child bites her lip and glances nervously at the distant hero. She crooks her finger to draw Whirlwind closer.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she answers exasperated before drifting forward obediently, "He's not going to listen in. He's far too honest for that."

The girl whispers, "Psycho says to go find ya at the park, after he heard ya was there. But Metro was already there when I got there. 'Been followin' ya ever since. Hoping to catch ya once he left but you spotted me too quick. Boss wanted me ta pass on a message."

"Why would he waste a vanisher on a blind woman?" It seems very stupid to Lady Doppler. She is probably one of the very few people in Metro City for whom the vainsher's powers were completely ineffective.

"He says you only look blind. He figured my trick would work as well on you as anybody."

"He figured wrong."

"Obviously," the girl concedes with an eye-roll. "Still worked on Metro, though."

"What was his message?" she asks, unwilling to be sidetracked.

"He knows you was the one that pulled that armored car heist, 'cause it wasn't no Doom Syndicate job and Megamind ain't in the bizness no more. There ain't nobody else that could do it, so it's got ta be you."

This time Whirlwind is the one that glances nervously towards the hero. "Is that what he thinks?" she asks carefully.

The girl nods. "So, he wants ta' offer ya' a partnership. Even split with the rest of the DS. What do you think?"

That is exactly what Lady Doppler expected the girl to say. "I think I already gave him my answer when I scattered him across the city last week," she answers coldly.

"That's what he said you'd say. He says..." She leans towards the floating woman and lowers her voice even more. Whirlwind doesn't even realized she's drifted closer to catch the girl's words until the teenager lunges. Seizing her arm, the vanisher stabs a hypodermic needle into the inside of her elbow and depresses the plunger all in one move. Whirlwind reacts immediately with battle-honed reflexes to throw the girl away from her with such force that she slams into a nearby building. The girl vanishes on impact as she's knocked unconscious.

"You bloody bitch, what the hell did you do to me?" Whirlwind scratches frantically at the injection point, knocking the syringe out to tumble to the ground below. She stalks forwards through the air towards the inert body only she can perceive, murderous intent on her face. Before she's crossed half the distance, however, she abruptly falls out of the air. Her scream brings Metro Man to her rescue, catching her just before she would have hit the ground. He sets her on her feet and asks, "Are you okay?" But she doesn't answer. Swaying on her feet, she shakes her head and gathers the wind about her again, lifting her from the sidewalk. Satisfied that she has control again, she rises into the air towards the hidden girl. And falls to the pavement. Metro Man is right by her side, steadying her as she lands in an graceless stumble. Once again, the wind builds as she prepares to fly. "Don't," Metro Man warns her, "You'll fall. Let me handle her. Where is she?"

Ignoring the question, she pulls one blue glove off, pushes up her sleeve, and scratches hard at her arm, "She injected me with shomethin'," she slurs, "Can't fly. Can't get to her. Can't-"

"Where is she?" he repeats with authority in his voice.

"There," she answers, still scratching, just as lightning strikes the top of the building where the young vanisher sleeps. "Knocked her out. She's just lying there. On the ledge. Ought to blow the lil' bitch off the building."

"No blowing people off buildings." Again lightning strikes the skyscraper. Twice. "Okay, I get it. That building. Stop with the lightning, you're going to hurt someone. You could just point."

Inexplicably, she begins to giggle, then claps her hand over her mouth. "Wasn't me," she whispers. She points upwards into the sky, "That was him. He doesn't like her." She giggles again.

"You're not doing that?"

"Nope," she answers, popping the p at the end. "I'll do this, though," She closes her eyes and knits her brows in concentration. A moment later the misting rain turns to sheets and the girl wakes with a sputtering cough. "There you go," she says, then stumbles on her impractically high-heeled boots. Metro Man grips her by the elbow, but she slumps to the ground anyway. "Think I'll just wait right here," she says, patting the sidewalk beside her.

"You do that," Metro Man agrees and, with a worried glance behind, flies up to the ledge where the rain is inexplicably bouncing off of empty air. He reaches out and catches the squirming, nearly-invisible teenager by the ankle. "What did you do to her?"

"Just gave her a little welcome to Metro City present from the boss." She kicks at his invulnerable hand, failing to dislodge it. "He says if I saw you I was to thank you again for the recommendation." Kick. "That armored car heist was nice work. " Kick. "She'll make a good addition to," Kick. "the," Kick. "syndicate." Kick.

Ignoring her ineffective assault he asks, "The armored car was her?" His stomach plummets as he voices the question. He'd been really trying not to think about that, because he knew Lady Doppler was the most likely suspect and he really didn't want it to be her.

"That's what the boss says." Still invisible, the girl twists and takes hold of a decorative rail, pulling in vain hope that she might break the hero's iron grip.

"She'll never work for Psycho," he asserts with conviction. He'd believed the woman when she'd said that she wouldn't work with the drug lord, and he doesn't believe for a second that the girl's attack will change that.

"Everyone says that, don't they? But she won't have no choice. Withdrawal's a bitch. By the end of the week, she'll be begging for the boss's smoke. She'll do anythin' for it." The girl has seen it before. No human can resist Psycho once they get a taste of his drugs, even mutants. All it takes is one dose. That's all it took for her.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." He resolves. He'll do whatever it takes to keep her out of Psycho's clutches.

Finally, the girls stops struggling and blinks back into visibility. She looks up at the most powerful hero on the planet and tells him, in all seriousness. "You don't. It's too late." Then she grins horribly, an expression that would be at home on her boss' misshapen face, "Don't feel too bad, though. She's pretty, 'cept for those eyes. He'll make sure she likes it."

Metro Man has spent years dealing with despicable human beings, but never had he been so tempted in his life to punch a girl. His eyes are glowing orange and his cape is snapping in the wind. He balls his hand into a fist and snatches her up by her wet collar. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent..." he grinds out her Miranda rights like a mantra keeping himself from wringing her puny human neck. With the aid of his superspeed, he deposits her into a cell at the police station and makes certain they know about her vanisher powers before leaving the building.

As he emerges, he glances up into the rain just in time to see a funnel cloud reach downwards from the clouds towards the police station, only to dissipate before touching down. He doesn't stick around to see what happens next. In a split second he's kneeling at Lady Doppler's side. The pale woman is still sitting, shaking in a puddle on the sidewalk, her soaked hair plastered to her skull and down her back. An intense look of concentration is on her face, her fingers pressed to her temples. "Was that tornado you?" he asks her just as the warning sirens start up, signaling the helpless citizens of Metro City to take shelter. The streets have been all but deserted since the lightning strikes, but he's glad for the extra warning. It'll make his job easier if he merely has to deal with the wind rider and not helpless citizens caught in the storm.

"No," she answers without elaborating. She frowns as she struggles to focus her psionic weather powers through the fog of Psycho's drug.

"What's happening?" he asks, needing to know what he's facing before he can help.

"Rage-shorm," she answers, still slurring her words slightly, "He's going nuts. Wants to kill 'er. Reeeally wants to kill 'er. Ho, boy, does he want to just crush the life out of 'er tiny human head. Mmmm..." She smiles. "Tornados are so much fun! All twisty and dizzy... Spinny. Whirly. Woo... Look at that one!" She giggles.

The hero looks up. He can't see a thing through the increasing haze of falling rain, but he hears the freight-train sound of tornadic winds in the direction of the police station. "You're supposed to be calming him down!"

"Am I?" she asks, confused. "Sorry, I forgot. Why's he so mad?"

Through the howling wind, Metro Man hears splintering timber and twisting metal and hopes the damage is superficial. The best thing he can do right now is to stay with her and help her calm the storm. He's pleased to detect the faint flickers of brainbot domes and they flit through the city, hopefully helping the helpless citizens he can't get to right now. "The girl who drugged you..."

"Oh! Right. Her." She thinks for a moment, the task clearly an effort, "She was a bitch."

The hero silently agrees, though he would not use such crass language. "Can you calm him down?"

"No. Actually... I think I'm making it worse. Oh! THAT was an impressive explosion!" She perks up and cheers as a distant electrical transformer blows. "I want to do that again!" she claps as another goes off. "What fun! Hey! You want to see a hailstorm? I bet I can get them up to baseball-sized."

"No! Lady, calm down. Shhhhh-shhh..." he tries frantically to soothe her. "You need to stop the storm before you tear down the whole city."

"That would be bad, wouldn't it?" she asks, suddenly very serious.

"That would be very bad," he agrees patiently. "Now think. What can we do to stop this?"

Her brow furrows in thought. "He's not like this. I think... I think it's me! I think it's the drug... It's stirring chaos, destruction! Wind! I want to see how fast the wind can blow!" The wind howls and whistles around them. Down the street, a thirty-foot tall tree topples in the straight line winds, it's roots tearing from the ground like a weed pulled from a garden. The brainbot in its branches flees, struggling to stay aloft in the gale. Eventually, it smashes into the brick wall of a nearby building and stops moving. She frowns, "I didn't mean to do that. Do you think it's okay?"

"Um... I'm sure Megamind can fix it." Metro Man answers, not at all sure if he's telling the truth. He tries not to be judgmental. She isn't herself. She's under the influence of one of Psycho's psycotrophics. At least she's decent enough to feel bad about it, even in her altered state. "So how do we get the drugs out of your system?"

"Black coffee?" she suggests.

He grins wryly. "I think we need something better than that."

She shrugs and hugs her knees to her chest. "That's why I don't drink. Drunk me is dangerous. Just have to wait it out." She leans her face down to rest on her knees.

"I don't think the city can afford to wait it out. Can we, maybe, block your powers somehow? Maybe take you out of the city?"

She looks back up, alarmed. "If you take me out of the city, he'll think you're kidnapping me. It'll be worse than when I left Greensburg, Kansas."

He blinks. "Wait, the tornados that flattened an entire town were you?"

"It wasn't the _entire_ town. More like ninety-five percent of it. And it _wasn't_ me. It was the Greensburg sky when I _left_."

"But... why would it do that."

She shrugs, "They're forces of nature, why do you expect them to behave logically? Some of them get reeeally upset when I leave. They don't want to lose their... what's the word?" She struggles to think with her brain spinning in psychedelic spirals "People-ness...?" she tries. Almost right, but not quite...

"Sentience? Consciousness?" he suggests helpfully.

She snaps her fingers and points to the hero's nose. "Yeah, that. They don't want to go back to sleep, so they lash out."

"Does that happen every time you leave?" If so, he's surprised it had not attracted more attention.

"No, just sometimes. But this one's already upset. I don' think it would be safe for me to leave him now."

"I'm not sure it's any safer for you to stay. Can you reason with it?"

"Not doped up like this. When I try to calm him, he pulls away and does the opposite."

"Could we block your powers somehow? Dull them?"

She leans forward and whispers, "Sneaky trying to learn my weaknesses, Protector."

"If we don't fix this, you and your sky are going to destroy the city. Are your secrets worth killing that many innocents?"

She seems uncomfortable for a moment, unsure of what to do. She opens her mouth, inhaling in preparation to speak, but hesitates. She frowns. "Do we trust him, my love?" she murmurs. Tilting her head to one side, she listen, then sighs when she gets no reply beyond the on-going storm. "Some help you are," she grouses. To the hero, she says, "Balsti do not trust glaupunk. There's... history between our peoples."

"I don't know what my people did to yours, but I was raised to be a hero. I took an oath. That involves a code of honor I won't break. If you trust me, I won't betray you. I promise."

She sighs and concedes that, "There _are_ drugs tha' can do dull my powers, but I'm high as a kite already." She stops talking and sits motionless for an uncomfortably long moment. Just as Metro Man decides she's finished and opens his mouth to speak, she continues, "Don' know how th' drugs would mix."

"Better not, then," he concedes.

"You could put me underground," she volunteers reluctantly, "behind doors with good air seals. That might do it. Course, he'd still throw twisters at it to try to bust me out. Not so good for the neighborhood."

"Wait, that might actually work. You saw my sanctuary, right? You said it was just at the edge of you range. I could take you there and it's almost out of the city but maybe not so far that he would think I'd taken you away."

"He'd still flatten it. He won't be full-power, that far on the edge, but he can still destroy that little shack."

"The shack isn't the sanctuary. The sanctuary's underground. He can batter the schoolhouse as much as he likes, destroy it even. I don't care. He won't be able to touch us inside. If I did that, would it distract him enough to leave the girl alone?"

"What girl?"

"The one that drugged you," he reminds her again.

"Oh, her. He's not hitting the jail anymore. He's just... playing." She points her fingers like pistols. "Pshoo... Pshoo..." Lightning strikes the parked cars she'd aimed at. She blows on her finger-pistols and pretends to holster them. Metro Man is relieved to note that the scorched cars are both unoccupied. "Hey, have you ever seen ball lightning? I can make them follow you around like puppies."

"Doesn't ball lightning explode?"

"Yes!" She gestures expansively with her arms, miming an explosion, "With a loud crack and heat like a lightning strike! But you can take it." She reaches over and wraps her hand around his bicep. "You're a glaupunk." The wind ruffles his hair playfully. "Finally! A man I can take storm-riding! Oh! I can't wait!" She's nearly bouncing as she sits on the cold concrete. "Please tell me you'll come? The lightning is _amazing_! And the wind will send you tumbling every which way. Soaked to the skin and crackling with electricity! You'll _love_ it!"

"I think we're off-subject. If I took you out to my sanctuary, would he focus on that instead of destroying the city?"

"You're going to a lot of trouble to justify taking me back to your place, Mister Scott."

"If I can move this storm to the edge of the city, it's _worth_ the trouble."

"Of course, that's all you care about, isn't it? Protecting your city." She pouts.

"It is my job."

"Fine, fine. It's fine. I know what to do." She rises unsteadily onto her feet, the rain streaming down her body, and calls out into the air, "My pet, my love! Come play with me! Catch me before the glaupunk does!" And without a glance at the hero, she breaks into a run, lightning scorching the pavement at her heels and a gale whipping her wet hair behind her. Before she hits the end of the block, the sky snatches her from the ground and pushes her, with two hundred-mile-per hour winds away from Metro Man. But the glaupunk's power of flight relies only on his will, not the cooperation of the winds. He charges into action, scooping his Lady from the sky. "Help me, my sky! He's going to take me off to his place. He'll lock me away from you! No telling what he'll do to me!" She pounds her fists against his arms and struggles prettily.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," he objects.

"Hush you!" she hisses, "He's a glaupunk!" she cries out, "He'll ravish me!"

"Um..."

Pitching her voice for his ears, she asks, "You wouldn't ravish a girl to save your city?"

"Uh..."

"Save me, dear sky..." she calls, laughing into the wind.

At that moment, Metro Man gasps, one hand going to his throat and his eyes widening in surprise. He heaves his mighty chest, but to no avail. He can't get a breath. He looks down at her in panic, knowing now that her earlier brag about knowing his weakness was not a bluff. But he's sure she isn't trying to kill him now. She isn't in control of the sky and _the sky_ has decided to murder him. This is far more disturbing than if she herself were doing it because, presumably, she could be reasoned with or defeated. But the sky... How do you defeat the sky? It's everywhere.

"Shit," she swears. She'd overplayed her hand, not difficult to do in her impaired state. "I didn't think he knew that trick yet." Dammit, dammit, dammit. She really didn't want to have to tell him how to beat her one glaupunk-specific tactic. But she needs him to remain not-dead. "Superspeed it out of the city until you can catch your breath. Then come back for me. Once we're behind sealed doors, I should be able to override his influence so you can breathe." She hopes she can, anyway.

He nods and releases her to the possessive wind who spins her happily, believing that it had won the game. A moment later, the hero snatches the Lady once more from the wind's grip and, not even trying to breathe, makes a beeline to his secret front door. Realizing that it had been tricked, the sky chases them with its storm and batters the weathered schoolhouse with everything in its arsenal, completely abandoning the city it had been playing with before.

But the two are supers, little bothered by wind and lightning. They slide safely inside Metro Man's secret sanctuary, the massive steel door blocking most, though certainly not all, of the wind's bond with her. The hero still hasn't breathed and is beginning to look a bit blue around the lips. She motions him down to her height and wraps an arm around his neck to anchor herself. Then she seals her mouth over his and pinches his nose, which makes him flinch, but he doesn't pull away. She breathes into his mouth, forcing air into his oxygen-starved lungs. He breathes her breath once, twice, then pulls away and coughs. He takes a shaky breath on his own, and another. Satisfied that she has undone whatever the sky has done to him, he relaxes and can turn his attention to her.

"You weren't bluffing, were you? That's how you'd kill me, isn't it? Suffocation."

She bites her lip and nods. She sways in his arms, not entirely capable of standing on her own. He blows out a long breath. He'd never before knowingly been in the presence of someone who could actually kill him. It makes him nervous, particularly when she can see that she's still tripping on whatever Psycho gave her. A super out of control is dangerous. In this case, dangerous to him as well as his city. Though he knows he isn't a god, his powers have always made him feel as though he's not precisely mortal. He doesn't like feeling vulnerable. "It's fixed now, though?" he asks, "You have control?"

She shugs. "You're breathing, so I guess..."

That is not the confident assertion he was hoping for. "You guess?"

"Don't know what the smokeman gave me. Don't know what it does. I might still kill you." She pulls her remaining glove from her arm and drops it on the floor. Sparks of lightning crackles between her fingers and she scratches her arm, sparks playing over the line of tracks down her inner forearm, most old scars, but the new one is red and swollen. Away from the excitement of the storm, her mind wanders and her attention is drawn to the hero's home. She steps away from him and into the room, her arms held out to her sides for balance and her steps deliberate and careful. A transparent attempt to hide her impairment. She leaves a trail of water behind her from her drenched hair and clothes.

With the senses from her skybond muffled, she clicks her tongue to "see" the room. A large foyer opens straight into what must be a living room with a round couch in a sunken seating area and various cabinets and free-standing display cases. The cases and cabinets were made to display the hero's memorabilia under glass, but to the blind woman, glass is as opaque as stone and she doesn't know what personal treasures lie within. The walls are covered in frames, but, like the cabinets, she can't perceive the paintings and news clippings documenting the hero's illustrious career. The only thing in the room that draws her attention is the rack of guitars and other stringed instruments filling one wall. She smiles and flicks her fingers into the air, the strings of several instruments strumming faintly in response to her breeze.

"Do you play?" he asks her.

"Not strings," she answers, "I prefer wind."

He smiles, "I should have guessed that. What do you play?"

"Flute. They let me have one when I was a girl. Something to occupy me while injuries healed or while waiting to complete medical tests. Grek'ul'zir mostly let me have my mind back when I practiced. I think the endless repetition grated on his nerves. When I practiced, it was almost like my head was my own again. I could almost forget, almost hope... Not enough to break free, but it kept me sane." She steps down the stairs into the conversation pit to sit on the couch and remove her boots. Stretching her sock-clad feet, she sighs, "Much better."

The mention of her former tormenter reminds Metro Man of the girl's prediction. Her assertion that the lady will become addicted. That she'll be hopelessly dependent on Psycho Delic and willing to do whatever he asks for another hit. He can't stand the idea. He knows she's probably the one responsible for the armored car job, knows that she has dozens of false identities and has spent years in hiding, knows that she has killed and was trained to kill from childhood. He knows all this, and acknowledges that it should be a natural fit. She could slide right into the Doom Syndicate like she was made for the job. But he can't accept it. Not his Lady. His mind supplies an image of Psycho in the alley with his prostitutes and transposes Lady Doppler in their place. He feels sick. He can't let that happen. He knows Psycho will make her like it, maybe make her beg for it even. But he remembers what she'd told him about the alien who had controlled her mind for so long. _"__Inside my head, I'd be screaming, but outside I'd do anything they asked me to. They violated me for years, and that evil MIND-LEECH would make me beg for more!__"_ He can't let that happen to her again. He can't. "How are you feeling?"

"High. The room is spinning, my whole body tingles, and I'm thirsty. Feels good, though, which is messed up. Shouldn't feel good."

"Lots of Psycho's drugs feel good. You let me know if you have an urge to mutilate yourself, though. I've seen his stuff do that too."

She looks at him, still possessing enough sense to be appalled, "Please tell me you're kidding."

"He's a sick son-of-a-gun," he says, unable to use proper profanities even when the situation legitimately calls for them. "What would you like to drink? I have soda or water. Fruit juice. Beer is probably a bad idea..."

"Don't worry, I got it," she tells him as she waves her hand in the air. An empty glass he'd left carelessly out on the coffee table gets its own mini rain shower and fills to the brim in only a minute. She waves her hand again, then groans in annoyance when the rain doesn't shut off and overflows the glass. "Turn off, dammit," she curses, clenching her fists and screwing her face up in concentration. Instead of ending the storm, the tiny cloud begins to spark. "Just great."

"It's okay," he answers. He streaks out of the room to retrieve a large bucket which he trades for the glass. "It's kind of cute. I've always wanted a pet."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Back in the streets of Metro City, the winds have calmed somewhat and a single brainbot unlocks its talons from the stonework of the building where it crouches. Flying out, it retrieves a syringe from the grass where it had imbedded itself, needle-first, when it had fallen from the arm of the city's newest super half an hour before. With a dutiful bowg, the little cyborg rushes off to Evil Lair to report what it had witnessed and to deliver what remains of the chemical that had started the whole mess. He knows Daddy will want to know.

**Review, please.**


	47. All Night Long

**Be warned, this contains references to creepy Psycho Delic doing creepy things. Not much detail, but... ew. Ew. Ew. Also, the age of consent in Michigan is 16. Did I mention that Psycho is creepy? I feel dirty, I need a shower.**

**And there are some fun bits with Megamind, too.**

**Enjoy!  
><strong>  
>Drugs are something of an art form for Louis Vaccarro. The sort of dark, twisted art that gravitates towards subjects like clowns maiming children. But just because an art form isn't widely appreciated, doesn't mean it's not art. And, though his work isn't to everyone's taste, he does have many loyal fans. Or junkies. Whatever.<p>

The man is a genius when it comes to pharmaceutical compounds. He understands them on an instinctual level that could have made him a fortune in the legal drug industry, had the accident that gave him his powers not also rendered him completely bat-shit crazy. The mutant can brew rapture, mix paranoia, and grind lust into a powdered form undetectable in most liquids. You want a love potion? He'll laugh in your face. But if you tell him you want a roofie to slip to your little sister, then he's your best friend. He'll even throw in a little something to keep you going all night long. And once he has you for a client, you will always be a client. You go down his rabbit hole and you never come back. Wonderland ain't got nothing on Psycho's pills.

But Psycho Delic's chosen medium requires a human canvas. The drug cocktails that work so perfectly on his victimss were never designed for offworlders. A mild, pleasant psychotropic whose main use is to create instant and permanent addiction in humans has a far different affect on balsti physiology. Had the smokeman known he was dealing with an extraterrestrial, perhaps he'd have chosen his drugs with more care. Or perhaps not. He does love chaos, after all.

0o0o0o0o0o

Outside the wind howls and no superhearing is needed to recognize the sound of boards splintering as they're torn from the walls outside the entrance to his sanctuary. The sound echoes eerily down the corridor. Inside, safely beneath twenty feet of soil and stone, Wayne finishes drying his wet hair with a fluffy white towel and runs it quickly over his soaked spandex to get the worst of it dried. Being invulnerable, the water won't hurt him, but he finds the wet material uncomfortable. Being merely a bit damp now, he drifts through the air to a glass-topped side table where a cordless phone sits perfectly centered on its surface. He takes the handset, which is embossed with his golden logo and hits speed dial. It rings twice before the other line picks up.

"Hello," answers a familiar voice on the other end.

"Allen, it's me," the hero begins without elaborating on who _me_ is. He knows the police commissioner's caller ID would have already told him that. "I'm off-duty for the night. Maybe tomorrow too. I'll let you know."

"What? Now? You can't do that! Do you know what's going on in this city? The weather's going crazy! I've got people stranded, cars washed into the lake, people trapped in shelters, a few minutes ago a freaking tornado was circling the jail, and NOW you decide to take a night off?" he sputters incredulously.

"That's _why_ I'm taking off. I know what's going on and I'm taking care of it." He glances across the room to his previously pristine couch where his guest is currently curled into a ball, electrical sparks crackling over her entire body and making fresh scorch marks on the leather. He watches carefully for signs of fire, but continues his conversation in the meantime. "But I can't do that _and_ run rescues too."

"What happened? What's causing this crazy weather?"

"Psycho Delic," he growls. "The maniac had one of his girls drug Whirlwind and she's lost control of her powers. The sky is going nuts. I'm keeping her calm and trying to minimize the damage." He hastily sets down the phone to superspeed across the room and catch the half-conscious woman in question as she rolls off the edge of the couch towards the marble floor. Sparks of electrical energy crackle up his arms as he holds her, the scent of his own scorched spandex fills his nose and all of his hair stands on end from the static.

Across the room, the voice from the phone continues, unaware of the minor rescue it's interrupting. "Whatever you're doing isn't enough. The storm's still tearing the city to pieces! What am I supposed to tell everyone? I need you _here_!"

"Tough," he calls across the room. He carefully places Whirlwind back on the couch and removes her clinging arms from his neck before returning to the phone. "Someone needs to help Whirlwind or it'll be even worse for the city."

"I need you here, running rescues. I can _get_ someone to come in and take care of Whirlwind, but who's going to rescue helpless citizens? The ASCA are equipped to-"

"No! Under _no_ circumstances is the ASCA _ever_ allowed into my city. I've learned some things about them recently. They're villains of the worse kind. Allen... They experiment on _kids_."

"That's not possible," he objects, appalled at the accusation. "I've spoken to the ASCA myself. They've always been perfectly professional and I've never heard anything but good things from cities that have used them."

"Good manners don't always make good people. Trust me, Allen, I don't want them anywhere near her." He floats back to the seating area and lowers himself to the arm chair opposite the couch. He watches the Wind Rider silently as she starts to giggle quietly to herself for no apparent reason.

"I understand you want to protect your girlfriend, Metro-"

"Darn right I want to protect her! Where ever there is Evil, Good must rise up! If you knew what I did, you'd want that hive of wickedness wiped from the face of this planet!"

"Oh, I think that's a bit of an exaggeration, don't you-"

"No, I do _not_," he interrupts through clenched teeth. "If you call them in, I'm gone. Simple as that." The moment he says it, he realizes it's true. He doesn't want to leave his job as protector, but if the city calls in the ASCA against Lady Doppler, that would do it. He'd walk, contract or no.

"Okay, okay. No ASCA," the police chief assures the Protector. He can't risk being the one that drives Metro Man out of Metro City. He'd be run out of town by an angry mob. "But, without you, what are we supposed to do about all the people who need help? " There's an unmistakable edge of desperation in his voice. The police department has relied heavily on Metro Man for years and the prospect of handling a disaster without him is daunting.

Relieved to change the subject, he assures his colleague that it'll work out. "Your men can handle most of it, and I just called Megamind. He's pitching in too. He'll be in contact soon."

"I'm sorry, who's pitching in?" he sputters in surprise, hoping he'd misheard.

He hadn't. "Megamind."

"But... I know we discussed bringing him into the department, but nothing's been settled." In fact, Allen had done his best to drag his feet to insure that nothing would _ever_ be settled on the matter. He does _not_ want that criminal working with _his_ people. He'd hoped that, if he stalled long enough, Metro Man would give up on the foolhardy idea. "There's no contract. He hasn't taken his oath. He hasn't been trained. How do we even know he can _do_ rescues?"

"Trust me," Metro Man assures him in his most comforting voice, "He's got the equipment and the brains. He'll do fine." The little rainstorm previously hovering over the bucket on the coffee table drifts over to rain gently on his shoulder. He levitates and moves a few feet away, but it follows him, still raining. He tries to push it away, but his hand passes right through the insubstantial cloud. He touches his feet to the ground for extra leverage and takes a deep breath. Blowing out with a touch of his powers, he hopes his own bit of wind will move it, but it seems the air from his superpowered lungs is nothing to the Lady's weather influence. He only moves it a few inches before it drifts back. Lady Doppler suddenly buries her face in the couch cushion, the foam muffling her shrieks of maniacal laughter.

Oblivious, Allen asks, "And he won't... take advantage of the helpless citizens?" He's careful not to say what he's thinking: that Megamind will probably rob everyone blind by morning.

"I don't think so, but there's only one way to find out." An alarming amount of wind has begun racing in a circle around the room. The crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling tinkles and clanks and begins to sway ominously. He eyes it warily.

"By throwing him right into the deep end?"

"He's been playing this game from a long time," he understates distractedly, "He knows what to do." A display mannequin holding one of the hero's first capes (one with a white fur collar) blows over, crashing to the floor.

"But he's never been a hero before," Allen tries again, desperate to change the hero's mind.

"Then it's about time he started. I have to go, Allen. Good luck." The phone clicks as the call ends abruptly.

0o0o0o0o0o

Lady Doppler is lying on a soft surface that spins lazily under her. Her head pounds and the sound of it fills her world. Thumping, drumming, stabbing. She pulls her knees up and rolls to her side, curling into a tiny ball and covering her ears with her hands. The world spins faster, suddenly tipping and briefly she's falling, falling, but the motion ends and the world rocks sluggishly under her again, like ocean waves under a raft. She whimpers and tears leak from the edges of her eyes. She reaches out to her sky for comfort, but he's raging so hard he doesn't hear her. "Oh, tempest! I'm gonna to be sick," she mumbles to herself, or maybe to the sky. The soft thing under her dips on one side and gentle hands shift her upright, tilting her forward and placing a plastic bucket into her hands. She heaves over it, losing some liquid, but little else. The warm hands hold her hair back until her stomach calms. Then the bucket is removed and a damp cloth wipes gently at her mouth. One hand rubs gentle circles on her back and she falls to her side again, sinking into semi-conscious nightmare again.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Megamind leaps from his hoverbike, 6 feet from the ground and lands in a crouch as the wind snatches his vehicle from beneath him and smashes it into the building behind him. In his arms, a toddler clings to his thin body, too frightened to even cry. The former villain struggles to his feet and trudges, leaning into the wind, towards the firetruck at the curb. He hands the child off to the waiting paramedics. "There are still people up there, but I have to use another vehicle," he tells them. Turning away, he speaks into his wristwatch communicator, "Spe-ider bot. I need you at 23rd and Rosehill."

A crackling voice sounds from his communicator a moment later, "Sir," says Minion, "Do you need me? I'm almost done with the train bridge." Minion had been dispatched in a giant battlesuit to handle returning derailed traincars to their tracks after tornadic winds had blown them from the rails on a midtown bridge. Like a child with a model railroad, his suit sits next to the el-bridge, picking up the passenger cars one-by-one, aligning their wheels with the tracks, fitting them back where they belong, then rolling them down to couple up with the rest of the train. Inside, the cars, the passengers are cheering and taking pictures.

"No, you fantastic fish. I've got it under control. After you're done with the train, check with Roxanne to see where she needs you." Roxanne, safe back at Evil Lair, had put herself in charge of remotely coordinating Megamind's team of aliens, AIs, and cyborgs with the city's more traditional first responders. So far, the arrangement was working surprisingly smoothly.

"Sure thing, boss!"

"Ah, Spe-ider bot. Perfect timing!" He calls as the mechanical creature scuttles towards him from a dark alley. He leaps into the cockpit and pulls the padded safety restraint down over his chest. He grins manically into the stinging rain as the Spe-ider bot leaps onto the side of a badly damaged high-rise building and begins to climb.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Metro Man watches helplessly as Lady Doppler writhes on his over-sized bed. She reaches her hand to scratch again at the phantom ants she'd sworn, in moments of relative lucidity, were swarming there. He gently pulls her nails away from the scabbed-over scratches already lining her arm. She struggles to pull out of his grip, but her efforts are of no use against his unlimited strength. To his relief, her struggles subside. Last time he'd restrained her she'd gone wild, bucking and screaming. She'd called him by other people's names and, though she hadn't always spoken in English, he'd gleaned that she'd been locked in nightmare memories of her past.

She begins to shiver. "_Mne kholodno,_" she whispers, her brows drawing together in confusion. "_YA__ nikogda ne kholodno. YA letayu cherez meteli nosit' spandeks__,_" she laughs and then continues seriously, "_Pochemu ya kholodnyy seychas? Chto so mnoy ne tak?_"

"I don't understand what you just said," Wayne tells her apologetically, "Can you say it in English?"

"_V angliyskom yazyke? Da._ I can speak English. Why am I cold?" This time her breath comes out in a visible cloud, fogging in what has quickly become a very chilly room.

"Because you've made the room cold," he answers, his own breath steaming as well. He wonders if he should be worried about frozen pipes, "Probably because of Psycho's drugs. Do you want another blanket?"

"_Sí. Otra manta sería maravilloso. ¿Por qué estoy en tu cama?_"

"Okay, at least I recognized that as Spanish, even if all I actually understood was _sí_." He stands and retrieves a thick quilt from the closet and carries it over. "This is the only extra one I have. I never actually need it since I don't get cold, but the extra weight seems to help me not float up off the mattress at night. If you start sparking again I'll have to pull it off, though. My grandmother made it for me and I don't want it damaged."

"I'll try to be good," she promises, smiling coyly. "I'm too cold for lightning anyway."

"Thank you." He spreads the quilt over the bed and pulls it up to her chin. "Is that better?" he asks.

"_Oui. Il est parfait._"

"Ah, we've moved on to French now?"

"I am lying in a strange man's bed. It seemed the right language to use."

"I think you might be maligning the French."

"Then it's a good thing I'm in America, isn't it? Maligning the French is something of a tradition."

He smiles, pleased she's lucid enough to banter with him a bit. "How are you feeling?"

"Cold. Dizzy. Isolating me from the sky has compromised my wind sense." She struggles a bit under the heavy quilt, trying to sit up. Wayne sits beside her and helps her. Seated, she clicks her tongue several times, cocking her head, clicks again, then shakes her head, "I'm too high for my echolocation to work properly. I can't make out a damn thing. Everything's spinning too much." Suddenly she pitches drunkenly to one side and ends up resting her muddled head where it landed against his bicep. "You're warm," she observes and proceeds to pull his huge arm behind and then around her, snuggling into his side. "Better," she sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing against him. Soon she's fast asleep. That's when it starts to snow inside his bedroom.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

A woman struggles through the unseasonable sleet to a battered door and pounds on it to be heard over the storm. It rattles in its frame. "Who is it?" a voice barks from inside.

"_Es Nina._ You better open you _maldita_ door before the _loco_ weather freezes me to death. _¿me oyes?_"

The door opens, a cloud of purplish haze wafting out. Standing in the doorway, the hideous pimp leans on his gold-handled cane and gazes cooly down at the small _senora_ on his doorstep. Nina had left her house that fine July morning in a lovely summer sundress. Now that same dress is soaked through, plastered to her skin by the freezing rain. Her hair is a similar ruin and only her waterproof mascara has survived. She looks nothing like the _very_ high-end escort that she is. Without her makeup, Psycho notices with a practiced eye how she's beginning to show her age. He wonders how much longer she'll command top-dollar. Another five years, he predicts to himself, and she'll be standing on street corners with all his other worn-out hos. But not yet. Tonight, despite her disheveled looks, she stands straight and meets Psycho's gaze without flinching or cowering.

"So lovely to see you tonight, my dear," Psycho drawls, stepping back to allow her to stalk into his room.

"Save it _Psicó_! Do you know what the streets are like out there tonight?" She pauses to wring a stream of water out of her hair onto his stained and matted carpet, "I hope this scheme of yours pays off, because none of the girls is making squat tonight. _Nada_."

"So, the vanisher did her job, then?" He asks, staring her square in the chest the whole time. The wet dress really is doing amazing things to Nina's already impressive cleavage.

"_Sí._ What do you think, with this weather?" she turns away to pace the floor, a lioness in a cage. Psycho moves his gaze from her breasts to her ass, perfectly content with either view. "Lily says you owe her something, though. The witch threw her against a wall, knocked her out. She says now her back hurts. She wants something to help with that. She figures you owe it to her, no charge."

"Where is she?" The drug lord asks, without commenting at all on the subject of product he may or may not owe to Lily. His hand strays down to adjust himself in the front of his pants.

"Back at Nicki's, but she _was_ in juvie. I got in by saying I was her_ mamá_, then handed out a few of your pills to anyone who didn't believe me. Grayson let me take her when the shift changed. Said he'd lose her paperwork if I blew him." She turns back to face the mutant again, meeting his glowing red eyes, "You owe me extra for that."

"Nina, Nina," he purrs as he transforms into smoke and glides across the room to her side. Solid again, he slides one arm around her tiny waist and drops a hand low to rub leisurely at her shapely rear. "I can always rely on you to do what's right." A purple haze circles both of them lazily, settling against their skin, filling her lungs. "You're my best girl, you know that, right?" She trembles as his hot breath tickles at the shell of her ear.

"Know how I know when you're lying, _Psicó_?" she asks breathlessly, "Your mouth is movin'." She pushes away from him, putting some distance between them and blinking through the fog of drugs pleasantly muddling her head. Instead of being dragged into forgetting what she was here for, she concentrates firmly on the task at hand. "Now, I did my job. You pay me what you owe me. None of your tricks."

A smug smile stretches the dried skin over his crooked, half-rotted teeth. "Of course, Nina. No tricks... tonight. A pleasure doing business with you." The purple man traces his fingertips along her neck, shoulder, down her arms, to finally drop a bag containing several bluish-purple crystals into her hand. "Perhaps next time I'll have something more interesting for you to do than run errands."

"Fuck you, _Psicó_," she curses as she turns her back on him and leaves, slamming the door behind herself before she can give in to the temptation to lose herself in the chemical bliss that is _him_.

Psycho Delic laughs at the woman's bravado as he shuffles through his room to the back where he has several different chemicals cooking. Nina may claim she hates Psycho, and it's probably even true, but Psycho knows she always comes back to him. He owns her as surely as if she'd signed over her soul. In a week she'll be back, and he'll make her pay for her lip. Every other rich son of a bitch in Metro City pays top dollar for Nina's pussy, and Psycho always gets it for the price of a few pretty crystals. What better life could a degenerate mutant ask for? But that's next week. Tonight he'll have to settle for someone else, and he knows just who to call. He pulls out a shiny new smartphone and dials Nina's home number. "Maggie," he says as soon as it picks up, "I heard you had a birthday last week. Come on over and let Uncle Louie give you your sweet 16 present... No, your mama was just here. She said it was fine... See you then." Psycho strokes himself through the front of his pants as he clicks the phone off. Time that little girl learned to earn her crystal the way her mama does.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Finally, she wakes with a clear head. Her wind sense is back, though muffled as it always is indoors, especially this deep underground. She can feel her sky, distant but calm once more. She clicks her tongue and grins as the sound waves bounce back to her with a clear image of the room she is sitting in. It's a bedroom. A bit ostentatious, but otherwise quite ordinary. Though damp. She wonders briefly about that as she swings her feet down to the soggy floor.

She stands without the room tilting even a little bit under her feet. She wiggles her bare toes in the squelchy carpet and has an inkling that she may have been responsible for its current state. She closes her eyes and a fog rises from the rug and other wet textiles in the room. She determines which door is which and sends the cloud of evaporated water into the attached bathroom to rain into the tub. She repeats this several times before she's satisfied that the remaining damp will dry on its own before mildew threatens.

She notes that she's still wearing yesterday's spandex, somewhat the worse for wear, if the snags and ragged tears she finds in it are any indication. She is blindly unaware that, rather than detract from her beauty, the damage has managed to artfully enhance her rough appearance and to compliment the few small injuries that mar her exposed skin. She notes with approval that, as is so reliably the case with high-end supersuits, the damage has avoided any embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions. This is why she spends the money for supersuits made by top-notch designers. She's known supers that had cobbled together their costumes from items found at sporting goods stores and costume shops. The results are never as durable or professional as a properly designed supersuit. Assessing the damage to her clothes as something she can live with for now, she decides not to rummage through her host's closet to find something of his to change into.

Her hair, unsurprisingly, is a hopelessly tangled mess. She explores the bathroom drawers and cabinets to conclude that, apparently, the man owns no hairbrushes, only combs. Combing it out will take forever, so she decides to ignore the rat's nest until she gets home.

She makes use of the facilities and returns to the bedroom. Her jacket is lying over a chair along with just one glove. Her boots and socks are on the seat of the chair. Deciding that avoiding fingerprints at this point is a lost cause, she simply stuffs the lone glove into a pocket. Long habit more than actual distrust forces her to check the rest of her pockets to confirm that her money and other possessions are where she'd left them. She dresses quickly and, once satisfied that she is as sober and presentable as circumstances allow, she heads out of the room and into the opulent living area.

No one is around, but she notices that the small rainstorm she'd called last night is now sprinkling into a large plastic tub on the floor. With a negligible effort of will, the precipitation ceases and the little cloud dissipates. The rest of the rain she'd tracked in before seems to have been cleaned up while she slept, though she steps carefully just in case. Wet marble and stiletto bootheels are not a safe combination. As her heels tap across the marble entranceway, she notes muffled male voices emanating from a closed door in front of her.

A quiet conversation ends as she pushes open the door. Two people look up at her from two sides of a small kitchen table. She clicks her tongue to identify them. One man is the increasingly familiar Metro Man, in his customary heroic costume. The other figure is much smaller with an exceptionally thin body and a inhumanly oversized head. He's wearing a spiked and high-collared cape over a close-fitting supersuit. "Good morning, Mr. Scott. This is Megamind?" she asks, turning her face towards Wayne to direct the question at him.

The hero nods, then says, "Yes," out loud because he's not sure how well she can see him this morning. She'd been all but well and truly blind at several points throughout the night.

She nods back and turns towards the other alien, who has yet to say a word. Then she does something wholly unexpected. She places her fisted hands on her hips, steps forward half a step to align her feet so her heels are together, and bows deeply from the waist towards Megamind. A slight breeze wafts over the man, circles once, then vanishes. He watches her cautiously, his nervous hand hovering over the handle the de-gun holstered on his leg, but he does not touch it. Head down and face to the floor, she says "Overlord Megamind, son of Bortiln of the House of Galroict of the Planet Vilnsit, I am honored to meet you. Your people were valued allies, trading partners, and friends to mine and I was left with instructions to pass along my people's greetings and best wishes to you, your _min-'yuhn_, and your family." Then, to his utter amazement, she takes a deep breath and says, in stilted but unmistakable viln, "{_May your intellect never fail you}_" It was a traditional invocation that he had heard many times before he'd left his world. Something meant, by a species that valued intelligence above all other virtues, to be the ultimate well-wish. It communicates both a desire for continued mental acuity and health for the listener and a hope for success in their future endeavors. It's also something he's fairly certain he'd never said to anyone on Earth. Certainly not in his native tongue.

He blinks, then responds quietly, as was once customary, "{_May your own mind fare as well.}_"

**Review please! What do you think should happen next? **


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